[Intro]

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 (Yes)

After all, they can only hang you once

[Verse 1: Ghostface Killah]

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 read pro

Son's triflin' fuck, wildflower on the cycle and

Picked up the broom thought I was Michael-in'

West Brighton Pool, now I'm into Iron Duels

Turn nuns to Earths, Whoopi, she at Allah school

Inhale break beats of Hell a-alikes propel parallel

Duracell knot, you flashed a burnt cell

Snap out of Candyland, kids, the old rumor is

Blacks become immune and shit, we never did

Like eating dead birds, trust the pharmacy over herbs

Men marrying men, ill they got the urge, pulsar

Scissor hand wig vanished in the winter, living off land

You god damn right I fuck fans, king me

Check, checkmate, props like the micro chip founder

Neck to neck stock with Bill Gates now

[Bridge: Ghostface Killah]

When we hug these mics we get busy (Busy)

Come and have a good time with G-O-D (G-O-D)

Make you snap your fingers or wiggle (Wiggle)

Scream, shout, laugh or just giggle (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 saying, saying, saying?

[Verse 2: Ghostface Killah]

Hit mics like Ted Koppel, rifle expert

Let off the Eiffel, burn a flag in your grass, 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 ropes, lay around the God, get tangled

Woolly hair, eyes fiery red, feet made of brass

Twelve men following me, it be the God staff

Move, every script's like Miramax

Smashed the big boy, totaled it, Wilshire and Fairfax

Sun beamin', wifey on the beach sipping Zima

Wu 'binos to Latinos, we love Selena

Overnight, God schedules, FedEx

Pretty silhouette, velvet nice, DNA scroll genetics

Too hot to handle, one thought from scrambling the mandolin

Hundred game Wilt Chamberlain, smack 'em, say when

He rollin' up, face wrinkled up, hands is on his nuts

Yo kid, stop fronting on the grounds 'fore you get touched

It's Canada Dry sess with Allah, son

We want rye, we want it so bad we might cry

[Outro]

For every blow, 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