Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Be This Way, artist - Ghostface Killah. Date of issue: 19.04.2004
Song language: English
Be This Way |
| Aiyo… aiyo, what up, yo |
| What up, ya’ll, this that Pretty Toney shit |
| Aiyo, I know there’s a lot of hoods and shit out there |
| A lot of niggas done got bodied |
| A lot of niggas done got robbed and shit |
| You know what I mean? |
| We love a lot of things in the hood |
| But time goes on… and if we don’t change a lot of shit |
| Shit always gonna be this way, and that’s a muthafuckin' fact! |
| True gangsta shit, ya’ll, yo, yo, yo |
| When ya’ll turn my mic up in here, bareback shit |
| Knowhatimean? |
| Tired of ya’ll muthafuckas and shit |
| One-two, fuck around and clobber one of ya’ll muthafuckas, man |
| Yo Spidey, put that reverb shit, on |
| Come on… «Can you feel it? |
| Can you feel it?» |
| Yeah |
| «Can you feel it…» Let’s go, fuck it… |
| Live from Staten Island where the gangsters kill |
| Only place on the map that got the 30 dollar bill |
| And we front like we got millions |
| Our specialty is how we willie, niggas—that's how Buck brought the building |
| And the police is pussy, they protect and serve |
| They connect with baseheads then they frisk our birds |
| Smack DVDs, blowin' herb |
| I’m in the room bonin' these two white bitches, Ice baggin' up work |
| That’s how we get down, fuck Vegas, the black Carlo Gambino |
| Rockin' the wallo’s, blow his diamonds in Z-No's |
| Spicey, verses is jalapenos |
| Best to leave, when I’m in the big Escalade, I’m sittin' on Dino |
| Tone Stark, a poet’s art |
| Kiss the girls and bake them pies, clean up, some are old darts |
| This that real live don' shit, you heard! |
| Yo, they lick forty rounds, today |
| Okay, plus the shit is mad hot around the way |
| Niggas don’t give a fuck on any time or day |
| Or if he dyin' today or could he find a way |
| Blow niggas over 'turf—bitches, dimes and trays |
| Blow a nigga a jewel and watch him slide away |
| It’s like that, in the hood, he in the grimy say |
| But what we tryna say is gonna «be this way» |
| It don’t have to… it don’t have to… «My God!» |
| With big carrots and static, with that leads to bad habits |
| Drugs layin' in buildings with great big automatics |
| Animos' in the hood, it’s a fact, we could do magic |
| Splatter faggots in lobbies, the heat burn off his eyelashes |
| Don’t try to pass this, back up or you’ll receive something |
| Real tragic, them hollows’ll race through your jacket |
| Semi gangsters with weak tactics |
| Forensic scientists called in to display graphics for square inch to his back |
| winds |
| They brain and spleen is left all over a fiend’s mattress |
| Bastard, we cock and squeeze after we leave our ratchets |
| We keep the hood cryin' for massive havoc |
| No Trix we take from silly rabbits, yo feed them lead carrots |
| Them little mans’ll connect and they touch that fabric |
| The only thing that can stop 'em is that Teflon fashion |
| Maybe artillery’s heavy like a bunch of fat chicks |
| Brrrr… baow! |
| Ain’t no comin' back bitch! |
| Yo, they lick forty rounds, today |
| Okay, plus the shit is mad hot around the way |
| Niggas don’t give a fuck on any time or day |
| Or if he dyin' today or could he find a way |
| Blow niggas over 'turf—bitches, dimes and trays |
| Blow a nigga a jewel and watch him slide away |
| It’s like that, in the hood, he in the grimy say |
| But what we tryna say is gonna «be this way» |
| It don’t have to… it don’t have to… «My God!» |
| «Ways… be this way!» |
| (3X) |