Released on April 20, 2004

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[Intro: Ghostface Killah]

Yo, who the fuck brought me this chocolate shit, man?

I said a banana Nutrament, man

Y'all heard what the fuck I said, I gave you...

I wrote it on the fuckin' paper, man!

Y'all motherfuckers always fuckin' around and forgettin' somethin' and shit

Smart dumb niggas and shit, runnin' around here and shit

Y'all niggas need to wisen up, man, yo

Get off that special ed shit, man


[Verse 1: Ghostface Killah]

I said Big O, hydro-face, pass me the Sazón, it's on

There goes son, tap out the hash bone

Half moon, he rock three fourth quarter length

No jewels, no rocks, his mouth was his spotlight

His gold tooth was a half a hill

That's a six digit split behind five sticks, eatin' steel, fuck him

We gon', we gon' get our money

If he front, they gon' read about the rocks in his tummy

Mouth is red, socks is bloody, fuck all the talkin'

Safety off and shit, crept up, "What up money? Freeze!

Don't move, turn around, act like James Brown

And get down! Get slapped with the pi-dound

Wasn't you the same clown? Uptown, yappin'

I keep Big Shirley on my side, so what's happenin'?"

Try eatin' these shells, they non-fattening

After you digest that, I'ma stomp you bastards

So take that – blaow, blaow!

"Ghost, he still breathing!" – Blaow, blaow!

Anything after that, it don't matter

Your homies and your close relatives

Even them nosey ass pigs'll get splattered

It's the T-H-E-O-D-O-R-E

Send me to Iraq, I come back with don heat

Teeth, less than a week, they'll be callin' me

Chief of Defense, 'cause I sure do cook when it's beef


[Chorus: Ghostface Killah & Trife]

Yo, what up?

Meet– these– O.G.'s

Co-D's in baller shit, long biscuits

Fuck around, take all your shit

Call your bluff

Y'all faggots don't want no beef

Grind your teeth

And just, roll with it, don't risk it

Fuck around and be a statistic


[Verse 2: Trife Diesel]

Yo, yo, niggas ask why I use my Glock

'Cause it's 2003, motherfucker, I refuse to box

I'm true to block, strip you for your shoes and socks

Remove your watch, or I'ma have to lose your top

I'm from a place where junkheads and zombies dwell

And niggas keep the heat blazin' like Bonzi Wells

Don't ever talk to a nigga like I'm one of your kids

'Cause I'll cock back the MAC and pop one in your ribs

So homeboy, keep runnin' your jibs

I'ma run in your crib, pistol whip you right in front of your wiz

My nigga, that's how it is, I get it, just how I live

'Cause me without a gun is like Queens without the bridge

Classic cut, this is how a O.G. live

Lamp in villas, and still get heard with no spins

This is Trife Diesel, New York's backbone, back home, back blown

It's Theodore, nigga, fuck your wack stones


[Chorus: Ghostface Killah & Trife]

Yo, what up?

Meet– these– O.G.'s

Co-D's in baller shit, long biscuits

Fuck around, take all your shit

Call your bluff

Y'all faggots don't want no beef

Grind your teeth

And just, roll with it, don't risk it

Fuck around and be a statistic

Yo, what up?

Meet– these– O.G.'s

Co-D's in baller shit, long biscuits

Fuck around, take all your shit

Call your bluff

Y'all faggots don't want no beef

Grind your teeth

And just, roll with it, don't risk it

Fuck around and be a statistic


[Outro: Ghostface Killah, over the Chorus]

That's right, it's real!

It's that motherfuckin' Theodore shit! Nahmean

Staten Island, live shit, y'all, straight up and down

Nothin' but that cutthroat shit

Blowin' niggas back home, you nahmean?

I don't give a fuck

We could take it there – whatever!

Hits? We got 'em, nigga!

Yeah, now I'ma strangle the game!

No doubt, it's real right now, motherfucker

Y'all niggas done done it – fuck y'all doin'

(I'ma get the fuck outta this fuckin' booth...)