Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Shakey Dog, artist - Ghostface Killah. Album song Fishscale, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 31.12.2005
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: The Island Def Jam
Song language: English
Shakey Dog |
Yeah, what’s the deal? |
What’s the deal y’all? |
I need y’all niggaz to buckle up one time |
Fasten your seatbelts, I’m a take y’all on some real shit |
This Theodore shit, y’all niggaz know what time it is and shit |
Y’nah mean? |
It’s real motherfuckin’shit, you know |
Yo, making moves back and forth uptown |
60 dollars plus toll is the cab fee |
Wintertime bubble goose, goose, clouds of smoke |
Music blastin’and the Arab V blunted |
Whip smelling like fish from 125th |
Throwin’ketchup on my fries, hitting baseball spliffs |
Back seat with my leg all stiff |
Push the fuckin’seat up, tartar sauce on my S Dot kicks |
Rocks is lit while I’m poppin’the clips |
I’m ready for war, got to call the Cuban guys |
Got the Montana pulled in front of the store |
Made my usual gun check, safety off, come on Frank |
The moment is here, take your fuckin’hood off and tell the driver to stay put |
Fuck them niggaz on the block they shook, most of them won’t look |
They frontin', they no crooks and fuck up they own juks |
Look out for Jackson 5−0 cause they on foot |
Straight ahead is the doorway, see that lady that lady with the shopping cart |
She keep a shottie cocked in the hallway |
Damn she look pretty old Ghost, she work for Kevin, she? |
bout seventy seven |
She paid her dues when she smoked his brother in law at his bosses’wedding |
Flew to Venezuela quickly when the big fed stepped in 3 o’clock, watch the kids, third floor, last door |
You look paranoid that’s why I can’t juks with you |
Why? |
Why you behind me leery? |
Shakey Dog stutterin', when you got the bigger cooker on you |
You is a crazy motherfucker, small Hoodie dude |
Hilarious move, you on some Curly, Moe, Larry shit |
Straight parry shit, Krispy Kreme, cocaine, dead bodies, jail time you |
gon’carry it Matter of fact, all the cash, I’m a carry it Stash it in jelly and break it down at the Marriott |
This is the spot, yo son your burner cocked? |
These fuckin’maricons on the couch watchin’Sanford and Son |
Passin’they rum, fried plantains and rice |
Big round onions on a T-bone steak, my stomach growling yo I want some |
Hold on, somebody’s comin', get behind me, knocked at the door |
Act like you stickin’me up, put the joint to my face |
Push me in quickly when the bitch open up Remember you don’t me, blast him if he reach for his gun |
Yo who goes there? |
Tony, Tony one second homie |
No matter rain, sleet or snow you know you suppose to phone me Off came the latch, Frank pushed me into the door |
The door flew open, dude had his mouth open |
Frozen, stood still with his heat bulgin' |
Told him Freeze! |
lay the fuck down and enjoy the moment |
Frank snatched his gat, slapped him, axed him |
Where’s the cash, coke and the crack? |
Get the smoke and you fast |
His wife stood up speakin’in Spanish, big tittie bitch holdin’the cannon |
Ran in the kitchen, threw a shot, then kicking the four fifth |
Broke a bone in her wrist and she dropped the heat |
Give up the coke! |
But the bitch wouldn’t listen |
I’m on the floor like holy shit! |
Watchin my man Frank get busy |
He zoned out, finished off my man’s wiz |
He let the pitbull out, big head Bruno with the little shark’s teeth chargin' |
Foamin’out the mouth, I’m scared |
Frank screamin', blowin’shots in the air |
Missin’his target, off the Frigidare, it grazed my ear |
Killed that bullshit pit, ran to the bathroom butt first |
Frank put two holes in the doorman’s Sassoon |
The coke’s in the vacuum, got to the bathroom, faced his bad moves |
The big one had the centipede stab wound |
Frank shot the skinny dude, laid him out |
The bigger dude popped Frankie boy, played him out |
To be continued… |