Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Ghost Is Back , by - Ghostface Killah. Release date: 31.12.2005
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Ghost Is Back , by - Ghostface Killah. Ghost Is Back |
| Listen, man, it’s going on 2007, g |
| I wanna wish ya’ll muthafuckas a happy New Year |
| (New Year, let’s give it up) How your 2006 was son? |
| (Go and get up, get up, ya’ll niggas is crazy |
| Ya’ll know how I get, my 2006 off, nigga I broke two of my toes, nigga |
| It’s going down nigga, that’s what’s up, ya’ll niggas is crazy) |
| That’s why you came to the show with, um, peanut butter on your toes, that day |
| (Nigga, why you gotta bring everything up? Man, everybody here enjoying) |
| Nah, son, because your shit’s --- (crazy, a happy New Year |
| This muthfucka) Nah, boy, yo (no, man…) But your shit was looking mad timid |
| That was the funniest shit in the book, that day (Find out who…) |
| That’s your toes right there! |
| (Who the fuck said I broke 'em) |
| Yo, how you put them little baby cast on there? |
| (Just a little punk ass nigga |
| man) |
| How you put them in the baby cast like that, though, son? |
| Come on, son, that’s what I was, that shit, yo |
| Let me tell you something, I ain’t gon' front, yo |
| I love you and all that, son (then say that!) |
| You my first cousin, (then say that, Ghost, say that) |
| You my first cousin, though, but come on, man |
| You know how it is, son, I ain’t seen you in years though |
| (You know how I get down) How you had peanut butter on your toes though, son? |
| (Cuz the nigga asked for it, man, shit I fucked a nigga up, man) |
| Yo, it’s New Year’s, yo (get back to me, muthafucka) |
| Yo, it’s New Year’s son (fuck ya’ll niggas, this ain’t no |
| Yo, Ghostface, my gold is fifty hundred, I want my money) |
| NINE! |
| EIGHT! |
| SEVEN! |
| SIX! |
| FIVE! |
| FOUR! |
| THREE! |
| TWO! |
| ONE! |
| I love you my nigga, Happy New Year’s! |
| Fuck that, let’s get this paper! |
| Yo, yo I was sitting at the table thinking |
| How the hell do I murder these M.C.'s, sting 'em like bees |
| My attitude’s that of Hannibal, not compatible |
| Why I would damage you, fuck, if I drink, then ran with you |
| Ya’ll chose to war, so called rich niggas wanna verse the poor |
| I’ll rob you first, then go to your earth, it’s not gon' hurt |
| If you try calling the cops, it’s not gon' work |
| All you gotta do is lay in the dirt, we dug a hole |
| And my guns weight more, yo, then Gerald Levert |
| With more blubber than a Ruben Studdard, I grease the pan |
| With rhymes, and ya’ll can’t believe it’s not butter |
| I told ya’ll to chill, stretch all out like franks on the grill |
| With a classic deal, I’m like a farmer when I’m playing the field |
| Just painting my seeds, in 20−06, it’s time to build |
| «Ghost is back…» — sample 4X |
| Yo, I cooked up the beef, seasoned up the meat |
| Fried 'em, tried 'em, took it out the grease |
| Ghost came to steal the show, since you loving your broad |
| I’mma lay back and reveal your ho |
| She a brain therapist, chick you can’t kiss |
| Opened up her legs, like «ooh, I smell fish» |
| Yeast infection, queen, she love dick |
| Shivlered up tits, she’ll bang the whole Knicks |
| Now how can I salute you, kid, I’m planning to do you |
| Crucial, blow rugers at who you with |
| We bump heads while we out in the street, it’s all good |
| My trigger fingers’ll matter, kick the back of your feet |
| And your red monkey jeans, is looking like a scene from Baghdad |
| That’s bad, flags red, dirt beds |
| Ya’ll niggas is eating, crystal meth' heads |
| We pissed out, wrist out, with the best threads |
| Knockin' niggas off, knockin' niggas out |
| Fucking up rappers is what I’m about |
| I’m holding Staten Island down, ya’ll cats must be dead |
| Keep fronting and lose your head |
| «Ghost is back…» — sample 4X |
| You can decide on who’s liver |
| Toney Knight Rider, wisdoms love my saliva |
| Slobbin' 'em down, hoggin' the mound |
| Pitchin' 'em eightballs, robbing the town |
| Don’t let your gangsta, get you murked up |
| Faggot ass homeys done got you worked up |
| Rappers can’t come around, ya’ll wide rap is dead |
| Freeze, nigga, come off the bread |
| Whole horizon, hit 'em with toast, a rap arising |
| Ringing the boys bell like Verizon |
| Eyes, looking suprised, that the four-five |
| Yo Ghost, don’t even do it, I got some more pie |
| Word up, aiyo I’d like to give a mean shout out to Staten Island |
| Holding the boy down, ya’ll know what it do |
| Theodore Unit, Big Trife, Wigs, Du-Lilz |
| Yo Supa! |
| Ya’ll know what it is, man, yaknowhatimsaying? |
| My West Brighton niggas… let’s see that money come first |
| That’s right, yeah, get up in that building |
| You tell L.A. Reid and them niggas to crack that safe |
| Word up, cause we coming, J-Love |
| Aiyo Den, what up, Ice, C-Allah, what up, yo Un |
| You knowhatimean, yo, Buck, hold ya head. |
| aiyo Bean |
| You know what it is, tell E, I said what’s the deal, man |
| We gon' get this paper, this year, yo Irf, you know how we do |
| I ain’t even gotta say that much, TaVon, come holla at your boy |
| I know my jack be off all the time, but yo, that don’t mean shit, nigga |
| Come through and holla, nigga, word up, this what it is |
| Yo, S.G., that’s my son doola… ya’ll niggas keep ya’ll hands off him |
| Youknowhatimean? |
| Yo Ant Acid. |
| what’s the deal, aiyo Tech, yo Plex |
| Your boys here, nigga… word up, it’s all about paper this year, nigga, word up |
| I got mad babies to feed, I got bills nigga, one… |
| Wu-Tang for life, Cappadonna, Raekwon, what up? |
| «Ghost got the juice, now» |