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Clipse Of Doom


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(feat. Trife Da God) [Ghostface Killah] Aiyyo, turn those lights down while I'm recording! Matter 'fact y'all niggaz get the fuck out the room, G! Straight up! Sipping on that bullshit Budweiser! Nah'mean yo.. what? Fuck you too nigga! 'Kind of pants you got on motherfucker, Capris?! Bitch ass nigga, go get ya feet done! Eat a dick nigga! [Verse 1] Catch me in the 80's drop Old school Mercedes with a brand new baby glock Right from my Lady's sock with two bodies on it Capricorn, Aquarius Lost so much blood, these bitch niggaz in they periods They say I be living the role, like 'Pac in Juice And only fuck with fly bitches that get fly and boost And they ears be chandelliers, lit up like a lamp, Who cares?! They cooch is fierce, the only thing loose is hairs Thats right y'all, if a rap nigga say my name I'm a fight y'all Fuck a state, light charge My predicate status, irrelevant My man got the big rap sheet that's outweighing two elephants Jumbo shits from New Orleans Players and Pimps that bit off Fiends Quick, switch with the hands, Powder blue wally's is dyed, Vanilla bally's is mean Kid, none of y'all motherfuckers fuck with my team, Uh! [Chorus: Trife Da God] Aiyyo we the live niggaz holdin heat on the street corners Sic the beasts on you, turning mothers to morners Money launderers, neighborhood coroners, place bodies in bags Tango with dirty Cash, Cocaine jacks " Kings of the Hill", out to blow like propane gas Package the raw, Theodore, We got the game on smash 'Cause we cut from the same cloth Big guns ready to bang off Slide off the cables and take the rings off! [Verse 2] We hold the weight of four Synagogues Jelly'd uptown in them beat down

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