Ghostface Killah - Stroke Of Death Lyrics
[solomons child (formerly known as killa bamz)]Yeah, soloman marked for life, a million to lifeThug for life, forever eyein the kid89 stick-up kid, king of new yorkRegulation party, daddy hard bodyRowdy brighton god-bodySmooth like a leather bop, 83 hip-hopTop of the world, get it rizzightBig to your wizzife, murder cats for the right prizziceFour-hundred and fifty-six on the dizziceThis is real lizzife, aint nothin sweet godSit down and think it through godCuz comin all outta ya facell get ya clap god[girl]You are now listening to the sounds of supreme clientele[ghostface killah]Step in to the party, its meGod almighty, ghost still holdin that shottyDustin alize, three-quarter timbsTerry-cloth robes, crisp hundreds in the envelopeDuke it on the globe, thank God for my wallabee shoesThey done saved me, up three-nothin and salt lake cityBurgundy minks, whips with sinks in emBrocolli blown, illa disease breath, elephant skinMeet the black boy george, dusted on my honeymoon***** like my wife, she popped my ghostface balloon*****es think that Im dominican, slap-hash indianMilk on my mustache, drop to my chiny-chinDive into dangerous parts, buildin with thirsty mammalsWhite man scream, swim starks sharks![rza]Smack the girl, bailbonds man stripped of eighteen bronz manTall like carl malone mailman, framed on larry johnsonTony montana blow, creamy white havana joesOld suzanna hoe, ***** sweet, banana flowDavid banner, gamma ray shots, beast will marinateBones splitted fatal wu swords, sour amputateDuck savanna wait, we splashed the glass, ice rocksOur cash high right stock, our logos on your rice boxPlus your dice box, on the side upon your white socksBobby got the mic *****ed, buck buck, nice shot
