ghostface killah – biscuits lyrics
(feat. trife)
[intro: ghostface killah]
yo… who the f-ck brought me this chocolate sh-t, man?
i said a banana nutriment, man
you all heard the f-ck i said… i gave you.
i wrote it on the f-ckin’ paper, man
you all motherf-ckers always f-ck around and forgettin’ something and sh-t
smart dumb n-gg-s and sh-t, runnin’ around here and sh-t
you all n-gg-s need to wisen up, man, yo..
f-ck that special ed, sh-t
[ghostface killah]
i said big o, hydro-face, p-ss me the sazone, it’s on
there go son, tap out the hash bone
half moon, he rock, three’s fourth quarter length
no jewels, no rocks, it’s not worth the spotlight
his gun tool, was a half a hill
that’s a six digit slip behind five sticks, eatin’ steel, f-ck him
we’re gonna — we’re gonna get our money
if he front, they’re gonna read about the rocks in his tummy
mouth was red, socks was bl–dy, f-ck all the talkin’
safety off and sh-t, crept out, “what up money? freeze!”
don’t move, turn around, act like james brown
and get down! get slapped with the put down
wasn’t you the same clown? uptown, yappin’
i keep big shirley on my side, so what’s happenin’?
try eatin’ these sh-lls, they non fattening
after you digest gat, i’m gonna stomp you b-st-rds
so take that.. blow, blow! ghost, he still breathing
blow, blow! anything after that it don’t matter
your homies and your close relatives
even them nosy -ss pigs’ll get splattered
it’s the theodore, send me to iraq i come back with don heat
teeth, less than a week, they be callin’ me
keep with the fists, ’cause i sure do cook when it’s beef
[chorus: ghostface killah]
yo, what up? meet, these, o.g.’s, quote these and
baller’ sh-t, long biscuits
f-ck around, take all your sh-t
call your bluff, you all f-ggots don’t want no beef
grind your teeth and just roll with it, don’t risk it
f-ck around, and be a statistic
[trife]
yo, yo, n-gg-s ask why i use my glock
’cause it’s 2003, motherf-cker, i refuse to box
i’m true to block, strip you for your shoes and socks
remove your watch, yo i’m gonna have to lose your top
i’m from a place where chunk heads and zombies dwell
and n-gg-s keep they heat blazin’ like bonzi wells
don’t ever talk to a n-gg- like i’m one of your kids
’cause i’ll c-ck back the mag and pop one in your ribs
so homeboy, keep runnin’ your jibs, i’m gonna run in your crib
pistol whip you right in front of your wiz
my n-gg-, that’s how it is, i get it, just how i live
’cause me without a gun is like queens without the bridge
cl-ssic cut, this is how an o.g. live
lamp in village, and still get heard with no spins
this is trife diesel, new york’s backbone, back home
black blown, it’s theodore, n-gg-, f-ck your wack stones
[chorus 2x]
[outro: ghostface killah]
that’s right, it’s real!
it’s that m-th-f-ckin’ theodore unit
know what i mean? staten island, live sh-t, you all
straight up and down, nothin’ but that cutthroat sh-t
blowin’ n-gg-s back home, you know what i mean?
i don’t give a f-ck… we could take it there
whatever, peace, we got him n-gg-
yeah, now i’m gonna strangle it there
no doubt, it’s real right now, motherf-cker
you all n-gg-s done done it, f-ck you all yeah
i’m gonna get the f-ck outta this booth
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