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