歌曲 | Mighty Healthy |
歌手 | Ghostface Killah |
专辑 | Ghostdeini The Great (Edited) |
作词 : Bean, Coles, Rooney | |
My God, so they are killers | |
I've heard lots of people say once a man's a killer | |
They just keep on killing and killing | |
They sort of develop a taste for blood | |
Yeah, that's right, they kill one man or kill ten | |
It's all the same after all, they can only hang you once | |
Both hands clusty, chillin' with my man | |
Rusty low down | |
Blew off the burner kinda dusty | |
The world can't touch | |
Ghost, purple tape | |
Rae co-host | |
Monty Hall expo, intellect you red pro | |
Son triflin' fuck, wildflower on the cyclin' | |
Pick up the brew thought | |
I was Michael an' | |
Mics are writin' pool, now, | |
I'm into Iron | |
DualsTurn-ons the | |
Earth's whoopee, she out of law school | |
In hale break beats of hell | |
A-Alikes propel parallel | |
Duracell night, you flash a burnt cell | |
Snap out of | |
CandyLand, kids the old rumor is | |
Blacks become immune to shit, we never did like | |
Eatin' dead birds chose the pharmacy over herbs | |
Men marryin' men, ill they got the herbs pulsar | |
Scissor hand wig vanished in the winter | |
Livin' off land you god damn right, | |
I fuck, fans king me | |
Check, checkmate props like the micro chip founder | |
Neck to neck stocks with | |
Bill Gates now | |
When we hug these mics we get busy | |
Come and have a good time with | |
G O DMake you snap your fingers or wiggle | |
Scream, shout, laugh and just giggle | |
Shake that body, party that body | |
Don't fuck with | |
Ghost ,you'll feel sorry | |
That's word, | |
I'm not the herb | |
Understand what | |
I'm sayin', sayin', sayin' | |
Hit mics like | |
Ted Koppel, rifle expert | |
Let off the | |
Eiffel, burn a flag in the grass it's spiteful | |
Ringleader set it off, rap | |
Derek Jeter | |
Culprit, prince of the game, wish you could see us | |
We lay low glitter wax full bangles | |
Priceless rolls, lay around the | |
God, get tangled | |
Woolly hair, eyes firey red, feet made of brass | |
Twelve men, following me, it be the | |
God staffMove, every script's like | |
MiramaxSmash the big boy totaled it, will shot fear effects | |
Son beamin' wifee on the beach, sippin' | |
ZimaWu 'binos to latinos, we bust | |
SelenaOver night, | |
God schedules, fed ex | |
Pretty soloette velvet nice | |
DNA scroll genetics | |
Too hot to handle one thought scramblin' the mandolin | |
Hundred game | |
Wilt Chamberlain, smack 'em, say when | |
He rollin' up, face wrinkled up, hands is on his nuts | |
Yo, kid stop frontin' on the ground before you get touched | |
It's Canada | |
Dry sess, obsessed with | |
Allah's sun | |
We want rye, we want it so bad we might cry | |
What we do, depends on breath control | |
So it's the first thing you must learn | |
Fortunately it's easy, you'll soon learn | |
My God so they are killers | |
Killing and killing, they sort of develop a taste for blood | |
My God so they are killers | |
My God, my | |
God so they are killers |
zuò cí : Bean, Coles, Rooney | |
My God, so they are killers | |
I' ve heard lots of people say once a man' s a killer | |
They just keep on killing and killing | |
They sort of develop a taste for blood | |
Yeah, that' s right, they kill one man or kill ten | |
It' s all the same after all, they can only hang you once | |
Both hands clusty, chillin' with my man | |
Rusty low down | |
Blew off the burner kinda dusty | |
The world can' t touch | |
Ghost, purple tape | |
Rae cohost | |
Monty Hall expo, intellect you red pro | |
Son triflin' fuck, wildflower on the cyclin' | |
Pick up the brew thought | |
I was Michael an' | |
Mics are writin' pool, now, | |
I' m into Iron | |
DualsTurnons the | |
Earth' s whoopee, she out of law school | |
In hale break beats of hell | |
AAlikes propel parallel | |
Duracell night, you flash a burnt cell | |
Snap out of | |
CandyLand, kids the old rumor is | |
Blacks become immune to shit, we never did like | |
Eatin' dead birds chose the pharmacy over herbs | |
Men marryin' men, ill they got the herbs pulsar | |
Scissor hand wig vanished in the winter | |
Livin' off land you god damn right, | |
I fuck, fans king me | |
Check, checkmate props like the micro chip founder | |
Neck to neck stocks with | |
Bill Gates now | |
When we hug these mics we get busy | |
Come and have a good time with | |
G O DMake you snap your fingers or wiggle | |
Scream, shout, laugh and just giggle | |
Shake that body, party that body | |
Don' t fuck with | |
Ghost , you' ll feel sorry | |
That' s word, | |
I' m not the herb | |
Understand what | |
I' m sayin', sayin', sayin' | |
Hit mics like | |
Ted Koppel, rifle expert | |
Let off the | |
Eiffel, burn a flag in the grass it' s spiteful | |
Ringleader set it off, rap | |
Derek Jeter | |
Culprit, prince of the game, wish you could see us | |
We lay low glitter wax full bangles | |
Priceless rolls, lay around the | |
God, get tangled | |
Woolly hair, eyes firey red, feet made of brass | |
Twelve men, following me, it be the | |
God staffMove, every script' s like | |
MiramaxSmash the big boy totaled it, will shot fear effects | |
Son beamin' wifee on the beach, sippin' | |
ZimaWu ' binos to latinos, we bust | |
SelenaOver night, | |
God schedules, fed ex | |
Pretty soloette velvet nice | |
DNA scroll genetics | |
Too hot to handle one thought scramblin' the mandolin | |
Hundred game | |
Wilt Chamberlain, smack ' em, say when | |
He rollin' up, face wrinkled up, hands is on his nuts | |
Yo, kid stop frontin' on the ground before you get touched | |
It' s Canada | |
Dry sess, obsessed with | |
Allah' s sun | |
We want rye, we want it so bad we might cry | |
What we do, depends on breath control | |
So it' s the first thing you must learn | |
Fortunately it' s easy, you' ll soon learn | |
My God so they are killers | |
Killing and killing, they sort of develop a taste for blood | |
My God so they are killers | |
My God, my | |
God so they are killers |