Beat the Clock
Ghostface Killah
Watch: New Singing Lesson Videos Can Make Anyone A Great Singer
Aiyo, Ghost, what's up nigga? This "Supreme" talkin' to you and shit You caught me all the way in Staten Island to see you Beat the two minute and thirty seven second clock Suprise: time started already, muthafucka Say that shit, nigga I'mma say it, don't get mad, y'all, I throw my darts sideways Shoot 'em up, bang, bang, through me baby Lovely lady, f*ck the spades, drive the kid crazy Before I go to bed, an hour later People be talkin', I feed dolphins My defense'll fly the coop off your mean office My skills is a fortune, robbin' leech out a sweet auction Teach then fall off the greatest, f*ck what they say 'cause we against the abortions, and we Lay low-oh-oh, silent those clowin' foes Got them clothes for his new feud in the road We them Fat Albert, spot runnin' '86 crack viles and pictures Lookin' all suspicous, I'm out.. Aiyo, hold up! What the f*ck you stop for? (I got somethin' in my--) Nah, you can't be stoppin', g What the f*ck you ain't got -- aiyo, you buggin' and shit Son, you gotta hurry the f*ck up Time is runnin' nigga, come! What the f*ck?? I work magic out of liquor store Give me a dollar and I turn that bitch into five And all I need is one more, to get things started Get retarded, and once you -- I'mma fix these artists Take 'em one by one, tie 'em up, line 'em up Treat 'em like a cigar, fire them niggaz up They be up in the club, six/three tree'd up With them young 'keds with their gear all beat up This is how I'mma kill 'em with four lines left Hold your breath, say my name five times it's take's practice, yo Decap' him with sayin' my name, it's like matches, yo It's time to f*ck up on account in a house, or blow Na-na-na-na-na, nah, nah, f*ck that four-line shit You cheatin' and shit, I ain't come here for all that (I'm tired, though lord, what the f*ck) What you mean you tired and shit, g? You suppose to be that nigga, nigga then show me If you that nigga! Then show me, nigga! I hold a mic like I'm Gail Sails Hoppin' over chairs like O.J., my rushin' yards Them pen, how the meter spray Happy wife-beater day, don't touch my, cheeba hay Get off my D-I, then go see the K's (case) 'Scuse me Mr. D.J., please play "Fish" Or that "CherChez", live meeting, ten four, may day-may day Callin' all cars, callin' all cars We have an APB on Starks and Trife the God We left the jewelry store, feelin' like we left the morgue We was frozen, and I brought an iced out Trojan That's for pussies whose golden, who got Toney wide open I put my ring up to my man's waves and seen an ocean Move like a wolf, kid, in sheep's clothing Snatch the money bag off the milk truck and kept boating I be potent like ibuprofen, I be coastin' With two shotties on me, in your grimiest lobby smokin' This muthafucka made the clock! Mutha-- where the f*ck? Yo, you be cheatin', mutha-, you be cheatin' That's that Staten Island, bullshit Theodore... you know you might be a Ghost But you ain't Houdini, muthafucka
Watch: New Singing Lesson Videos Can Make Anyone A Great Singer
Written by: Dennis Coles, Albert Johnson, Mark Richardson, Coles
Lyrics © Royalty Network
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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"Beat the Clock Lyrics." Lyrics.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 14 May 2024. <https://www.lyrics.com/lyric-lf/565599/Ghostface+Killah/Beat+the+Clock>.
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