Metal Lungies-Ghostface Killah

What they need to be hollerin' is, "There go TheodorePut the ball down, we can't score”They pen **** to blackboards, make queens out of whack broadsYou see us comin'? **** that Fam ****, just pass off, you ************', Dana Dane's wrapped around your neckLookin' rich, baow, you ****** up nowSee my gun, *****? This baby got stuffed uptownShouted out, made a whole safe with the pump root poundsMy buddy, keep my gun, right next to my tummyAsk the click, yo, they spit metal lungiesDetach wigs, kill flunkies off contact, son seeDidn't Mommy tell y'all ****** to wear clean undies?See, y'all should've listened to herShe knew her son had a big mouthAn' someday, death would occurPlease, for Ms. Gale's sake an' her seedsPass the flurry, ain't ******' around, they knocked to her weaveUh, oh, word up, this stillWhat you talkin' 'bout, baby?Real kids spit that ****Let's go, let's go, let's go, yo, yeahMe an' Starks clear projects parksWith our '93 ****, army coat green an' light tan ************ think I'm lucky, ******* wanna **** meAn' put me in the tub with them like I'm a rubber duckyI got a revolver in the pump about the size of ChuckyI remember faces easy as I tie my lacesHere, put the metal in your mouth, like you was rockin' bracesI spit an iron lungie, yeah, I'm old school like the Iron MonkeyMy **** powerful enough to lift a ******' donkeyI got heavy chrome, ****** don't care if you live or dieThey happier than Marbury homeY'all ****** better kill me, my street ******, feel meLouch gotta eat, ends gotta meetThe hard **** you kickin' 'bout is on beat as TweetThis is Theodore, D-Block, the year adoreIt's son who fall, with the four-four, ****** likeUh, oh, word up, this stillWhat you talkin' 'bout, baby?Real kids spit that ****Yeah, *****, this is Ghost with GhostfaceI don't sell millions but I get millionsFrom the fiends that smoke baseSomebody leavin' out with a poked faceTone, burn him an' kick his teeth outI can swear I won't get you no caseI'ma make it look like you smoke baseAn' we don't leave no traceThese rap ****** swear that they so safeI don't wanna talk to you, homes, I don't communicateMy guns be in my hand, one in my palmAn' I could dial your number like a smile off the faceWith the H.K. 9, I'm the all black hummerMetal lungies'll spit the grungiest shitHungriest shit, seventeen dummies a clipTell them rap ****** to suck my ******** the industry of [Incomprehensible]Shut down the store, bust my shitI got some hustlin' ass ****** that'll pump my bricksAn' some dust head ****** that'll dump my clips, what?Uh, oh, word up, this stillWhat you talkin' 'bout, baby?Real kids spit that shit