| «Your magic is good!
|
| That is why he waited, so all my power would dwindle
|
| My power has diminished
|
| Then he come to kill me!
|
| Yes, but…
|
| I know your kung fu is still very good
|
| If you practice again
|
| No-one could possibly be your match!
|
| Oh, the ancient weapon!
|
| Fierce, I travel across seas on glaciers
|
| Fought shoguns and got fucked by geishas
|
| Still gracious, still able to spit out darts
|
| Just grew tougher skin for swimming
|
| With the sharks. |
| Broken ankle
|
| Fucking with the wallabee clarks
|
| Got them bitches still screaming my name
|
| «Waddup Starks?» |
| I’m a bone-crusher
|
| Ox’ll split your face like a Dutch Master
|
| No more mixes — polar bears from Alaska
|
| With sharkskin Air Max’s and igloos of ice
|
| Rocks clumped up like overcooked rice
|
| I’m nice, you the reason why the game went soft
|
| Bland niggas I come through and season your broth
|
| Like Mr. Dash, I blast, I’m a Menace like Dennis
|
| Young Ghost, in the bathroom a 6-month sentence
|
| Rehabilitated, back in the yard, flying heads
|
| With barbed wires, stay tying niggas to beds
|
| Everybody get paid
|
| Everybody get laid
|
| All these bitches dirty
|
| Everybody got AIDS
|
| Everybody get played
|
| Everybody get sprayed
|
| Everybody do what I say
|
| Everybody my maid
|
| P — crack-selling black felon
|
| That clap «rat tat tat tat tat» melons
|
| Some thugs — one gun, one slug
|
| Shot-caller, like «yo let me speak to young Mugs»
|
| Listen, it’s Mandela, pa I grab wack emcees, I smack em hella-hard
|
| I kill niggas with the birdy blick banger
|
| My Wu-Tang niggas call me the 36th Chamber
|
| «Lyrical miracle spiritual» rap dudes
|
| Get smacked off their skateboard for not paying rap dues
|
| P — call me the gatekeeper
|
| Break heaters on your face, smoking laced cheeba
|
| She want a thug, not the lawyer-type
|
| A golden boy employed to promote and write
|
| Sort of like an ill De La Hoya fight
|
| I’m eating good, enjoying life
|
| Flawless ice, with the bag of flawless white
|
| With no strings attached, pull this might
|
| Toy with my S550 with the raw pipe
|
| Peeling off like snakeskin
|
| Watch the cobra bite
|
| Overnight success story
|
| Going jet for me, you rep Wally
|
| That’s why your cassette’s corny
|
| Your money too short for long convo
|
| You in the game hurting, tryna play
|
| Rajon Rondo. |
| Millionaire swag
|
| Peep your boys ensemble
|
| Jewels heavy, Prince Akeem, coming to America, et cetera
|
| Whoever said the kite is a messenger
|
| Cause I think like the man behind a register
|
| Quick to pull the toaster out
|
| Stomp, choke em out. |
| We over here
|
| Counting Bread, what you loaf about? |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Laced Cheeba , by - Ghostface Killah. Song from the album Legendary Weapons, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп