[Intro: Ghostface Killah]

Yeah, testing one-two, one-two

Testing, one-two, yeah

One-two

[Verse 1: Ghostface Killah]

I've lived the life of Sonny Carson

Favorite slacks was the baby blue knitted sharkskins

Custom made like the Ace Of Spade

Switching robes when I leave the forum

In the sleeve is a classic date

Russian cut (Uh), mustard handle (Yeah)

'Bout the same size of little Tyshaun with his Nikes on

Still blamp you, vamp you, throwing homo's out they sandals

Leave your brain all chunky, like I'm advertising soup from Campbell's

Bow-legged old men give me props

All I do is buy 'em a bottle, hit 'em off like, "Peace, Pops!"

"Fishscale got the streets hot

All you gotta do is go on the road with Dipset, Rae, and D-Block

And that's how we take New York back" (Yeah)

Flex and the Pitbulls, Heavy Hitters, Kay Slay, Absolut

Camillo, Lantern – load the wax up, cock and shoot

Cipha Sounds, DJ Clue, Envy – next, Staten be the scoop

[Chorus: Ghostface Killah]

We them brick flippin' niggas with cash-rule – relax, duke

Doctor bills, funerals – that's what cash do (Blah)

Come around here fronting, we'll splash you

Staten Island murder goons, cousin, we'll scratch you (Yo)

[Verse 2: Ghostface Killah]

Heard some of ya'll singing like Lou Rawls

Try to fuck me—you gon' suffer from blue balls

Tone's a karate champ, shottie champ

You period niggas be spottin' with bad cramps

Intestines looking like chitlins

All we need is hot sauce – my pork eaters, go and get rid of 'em

Kites and death threats, ya'll keep sending 'em

For every dart you throw, my last one's killing 'em

Like cancer patients, in the process, losing they hair

You'll be fighting for life, scratching and gagging

Panicking, gasping for air

Suffocating from no-wind syndrome like somebody cut the neck of a deer

It's algebra in the third

Alfalfa with the gun to the Rascals

Jessica Alba is one of my burns

Plus AlkaSeltzer's blowing up birds

Out to melt your brain cells like alien herb

[Chorus: Ghostface Killah]

We them brick flippin' niggas with cash-rule (Ooh) – relax, duke

Doctor bills, funerals – that's what cash do (Blah)

Come around here fronting, we'll splash you

Staten Island murder goons, cousin, we'll scratch you

[Verse 3: Ghostface Killah]

Get lost in my hood, it's like you lost in Elmira (Mira)

You might get poked up, smoked up, throat cut

Rocking them little fly chains, get yoked up

Ya'll Boar's Head niggas, ya'll just cold cuts

Victims of night time street horror, going home with casualties

The twelve gauge blew off half of ya' knee

That's what happens in war (What?)

When the hyenas don't eat, we creep

Our stomach growls loud so we don't sleep, tote heat

Won't speak, (We them) we them grill niggas, we smoke beef