| Yo, hand me my surfboard, I’mma surf on these niggas real quick
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| You know what I mean, show these niggas out
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| See whose real and see whose fake
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| Youknowhatimean, it just seem like you niggas float on water
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| Check this style out… I’ve never used this shit before (yo, yo)
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| I got them Beefsteak Charlie’s on, size 12, medium
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| Shy top wallies on, straight from England
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| I got taps on mines, ya’lls is leaning
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| Fuck ya star pussies for real, ya’ll just dreaming
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| Wake up, mothafuckas, shape up, feel the pain
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| What up, stand the fuck up, pull ya cup out for change
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| Now who wanna step through my backyard?
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| When this go double platinum I’mma flash hard, like
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| Oh boy, Toney’s the Don, know
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| With so much paper, call me Enron, so
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| My peeps blow, check my peacoat
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| She holds, throw it back, nigga I keep those
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| Just in case ya’ll wanna see a freakshow
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| Barnum & Bailey’s, night of the deepthroats
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| Dirty mouth niggas, may ya’ll eat soap
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| Shoot one of ya’ll, touch my cheese toast
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| Hey hey, what you say?
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| This is real hip hop on the line today
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| It’s worth more than any label, on what they pay
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| I’m here to save hip hop, cuz it’s dying away, come on
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| Fiber optic, microscopic
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| Bulletproof. |
| Yo, I’m glad you copped it
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| Sony stop it, Def Jam gon' do the opposite
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| Hov' gon' keep on top of it
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| I’m real positive, my prerogative
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| Socrates, mockeries, Betty Croker kids
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| Go broke, I’mma fucking rob ya crib
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| And I’mma kill him if I get on top of him
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| With crazy hammers, nothing but grown man taste
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| With bandanas, right in front of cameras
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| Parents planning, feel the cannon
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| Tanning yogurt niggas, like Dannon
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| Stretch, yes, I go to war with a banged up vest
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| Teflon, that was made by Guess
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| Even my girl got a bulletproof dress
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| J.Lo shit to runway, laid Prego crisp
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| Diego, Killah wave-oh, Play-Doh fifth
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| They ain’t no, nigga like Ghost, play those chips
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| We dying from the guns shots, fatal licks
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| From yae yo bricks to Adolf spits, we paid off it
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| The Wally Don, done ate off it
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| Throwing stones at a glass house, front and get mashed out
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| My gun turn heads, like bitches with they ass out
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| Yeah, uh-huh, nigga, ya’ll like that shit huh, youknowhatimean
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| This is real hip hop and shit, youknowhatimean
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| This is a huh, I’m a true MC, ya’ll niggas know how I get down
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| Ain’t none of that commercial shit, youknowhatimean
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| I’m stuck in that, back in the days, '95
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| '88, '86 era, of real hip hop and shit
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| You know what I mean, word up, it’s the great Ghost Deini, nigga
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| I got too many styles, I juggle this shit
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| Ya’ll little niggas out there need to take heed |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Charlie Brown , by - Ghostface Killah. Song from the album Wallabee Champ, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп