Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Burner to Burner, artist - Ghostface Killah. Album song Ghostface Killahs, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 12.09.2019
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Believe
Song language: English
Burner to Burner |
Yeah, baby |
You know what it is, Yap City (All day) |
Shit make you wanna smack somethin' off top |
Word up, check it |
Yeah, y’all niggas is goin' to hell, yo |
I pledge allegiance to crime, right hand on the burner |
Death to all cornball niggas who wanna turn up |
I call it gettin' it in, you call it animosity |
Listen, you could never match my velocity |
Too much stamina, glitter in front of cameras |
On the red carpet, still clean your clock like a janitor |
Favorite Pac joint was «I Ain’t Mad at Cha» |
Skinny jean faggot, you ain’t man enough |
You ain’t got the heart to snuff plus cut, stab, or bust |
We wrestle down elephants, two hundred grand per tusk |
The ball spinnin', spillin' Spades on Asian women |
Love them pretty black joints, lil' Malaysian in 'em |
Ghost got a gambling habit, I burn bookies |
Smack so many promoters out here, they scared to book me |
Scared to book niggas, your highness |
Diamonds on the Yankee sign, dirt on the camo |
Six stones floodin' the left hand like Thanos |
While you sambos dance to Bo Jangles |
I’m verified, toasting on boats with hoes, damsels |
Yeah, son, I’m loving the hate |
Why I keep a knife on me, so I’m sure to get a cut of the cake |
Now my name hold double the weight |
That’s an actual fact, a million plus motherfuckers relate, yeah |
I’m on them heavy bags like Deontay |
And I’m wild caught, y’all niggas farm-raised |
For 50 Cent, I went to war with many men |
Then slapped them with the jacket like Benny Hinn |
I’m hittin' that jet fuel, you’re new in the game, lame |
You’ll never use Deck for a step stool |
They don’t wanna hear that shit, they want Dorothy |
Fire comin' out of my mouth, that’s an arsony |
I’m so hood, tossed the nine when I left it |
Rubber bands wrapped around my thoughts the more I stretch it |
When it come back, I pop that sucker shit |
I smoke blunts and I spit on that rhetoric |
Original ties in, SI gutter |
Let’s get it right, fuck you and your brother |
My raps in the back of your head like two mufflers |
So pull your dress up, your ass ain’t tough enough |
Niggas cuddle up with the wife, they can’t come out |
I be at the club all night, I might dumb out |
You fuck around with big dawgs, ain’t no bark here |
Fuck you and your friends, nigga, you can’t park here |
My sword indeed make more niggas bleed |
Leave it to the specialists, we mean business |
Come and get some, you want none |
I hit it Wu-Tang style, caught up in the mix |
(Wu-Tang style, caught up in the mix) |