Letra de Iron Maiden - Ghostface Killah

(Feat. ["Cappadonna","Raekwon"])

[Kid #1]: What you doing on our turf punk?

[Kid #2]: I got a message for Smokey

[Kid #1]: Give it

[Kid #2]: You Smokey, man?

[Kid #1]: Give it!

[Kid #2]: If you ain't Smokey it ain't your motherfucking message

[Kid #1]: Motherfucker, I said give me the message!

[Kid #2]: It's from Willie, in the slam

[Kid #3]: Nigga, you been busted?

[Kid #2]: Yeah, the man picked me up

[Kid #3]: Well, I ain't got no fucking time to play with you. Now give me the message

[Kid #2]: Willie's in Warwick - doing one to three. Told me to tell y'all motherfuckers to keep cool. He be out one way or another, quick. Maybe I can stick around for a while?

[Kid #3]: No that's out man! You know. What could we The lords do with a punk like you!?

[Kid #2]: Kiss my ass, motherfucker

[Kid #4]: Burn him!

[Kid #2]: Just me and you, motherfucker, just me and you! I put trademarks around your fucking eye!

Portraying but haven't been paying

(uh-huh, uh-huh)

Yeah, no doubt, no doubt (uh-huh, uh-huh)

This polly champ cat

Yeah, stop this one

(uh-huh, uh-huh)

Yo, Gambino niggas who swipe theirs, deluxe rap cavaliers

Midgets who steal beers, give 'em theirs

Sit back jollyin'

My team be gaming like three-card molly and drug Somalians pollying

Mittens raps they crocheting

Ayo Iron, these niggas portraying but haven't been paying

For real, slide on these niggas like a fresh pair

Caesar fade style, usually tuck grenade

Throw a blade, fuck getting laid, guzzle this shit like Gatorade

Day to day Wallies half-leather, half-suede

Connecting with the high stylist, dun

Light up a chalice, I run with nothing but the wildest, foulest

Come on now, long-dick style

Niggas on the hit out, ayo Iron bite my shit out

Eventually, bust a rap gun mentally

Been doing this a century kid, shit's meant to be

Get on your knees and bless me with a gem in the Caribbean

Skiin' off white BM

Snatch Canadian cream with Scandinavians

Palladium style, play it like 32 Arabians

The greatest lesson is don't owe, you might get stole on

When I go, bury me with velour on

They come to me, and understand, just let me get mines first

Then after I get mines, y'all can do what y'all wanna do

Fuck 'em up bad

Sure enough, hit the bank and thrust

Wu Nauticas Jamie Sommer got trained on the tour bus

We upgrade, swallow raw eggs, read the label

Hitting white-label, left the Winnebago unstable

Smooth sailing, walked in, my Earth start kneeling

Started stealing, I'm too ill

See we're grilling at the parlay, kicked up, mack, max motion

Michael Bolton magazine quote, I'm too potent

Louisville mix pain kill rap, fuck Benadryl

The violin in Knowledge God sounded ill

Tremendously obnoxious, no blotches

My telephone watch'll leave bartenders topless

Dead arm the prosecutor, smack the juror

Me and my girl'll run like Luke and Laura

We sit back on Malayan islands

Sipping mixed drinks out of broke coconut bowls, we wilding

Sit back jollyin' (uh-huh, uh-huh, uh-huh, uh-huh)

Sit back jollyin' (uh-huh, uh-huh, uh-huh, uh-huh)

Sit back jollyin'

My team be gamin' like three card rolly an' drug Somalians pollyin'

Sit back jollyin'

My team be gamin' like three card Rolly and drug Somalians pollyin'

Sit back

Deep meditation sound orientated, war the blizzard

Rap paramedical the wizard

Cappadonna, never catering to none

My microphone and three verse weigh a ton of slaughter

You order five thousand back across the water

My laboratory story keep me flowing with the glory

Acapella or deep dirty instrumental

I could blow the sky like the stormy wind blew

One gallon of wilding, Park Hill profiling

I cut your face a buck 50 sure, why you smiling?

For violating my position

I leave you smoked like a crackhead on a mission

Two tokes of mic dope, one stroke of elegance

Rated like the movie graphic told intelligence

Person to person, it be hard for you to take a trophy

You're better off to get somebody out to try to smoke me

'Cause I'm P.L.O. TKO every day

Dancehall General, party fanatic Colonel

Cappadonna son'a old school Disco Inferno

Veteran for rapping with the new set of Wu-Wear hard rapping

'96 jive, I keep the live crowd clapping

When I bow, all praises due to Staten Isle

I spark the mic and Shaolin spark the Meth-Tical

Every evening, I have a by myself meeting

Thinking who's gonna be the next to catch a beating

From my mental slang and bitching rap twist the point of warfare

I brutalize, all competition catch hell here

Chance him, that's what they said, threw up a ransom

I jacked it, stripped the beat naked and packed it

Give me my rewards

The way I, the way I wanna get 'em. I want 'em gotten. I want 'em layin'

Out. I want 'em gotten. Cause niggas need to be got. He need to be

Taken off of here. That's right

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