Released: September 13, 2019
Featuring: Method Man Cappadonna
Songwriter: Danny Caiazzo Tim Schoegje Cappadonna Ghostface Killah Method Man
Producer: Danny Caiazzo
[Intro: Ghostface Killah]
Alright, there it go again
Yo, yo
[Verse 1: Ghostface Killah]
Yeah, foreign cars, we coppin' em, hoppin' in with Glocks an' them
Stick up kids on dead-end streets, we pop 'em first, we box 'em in
Behind the wheel the driver's hittin' gas before the oxygen
Tryna find whatever hoes that he can tie a sock up in
To stop the bleedin', lotta reasons, lotta goons, they wanna eat
The money pop a lotta shit, the stick-up game is outta season
First time I scoped 'em out in front of subways eatin' pizza
He didn't even peep us
This is practice, thuggin' with free access
Original hitmen, born shooters that wear glasses
Guns that stop traffic, ain't afraid to blast it, bitch
This is Iraq iron, not plastic
We hogtie, duct tape, take long drives
You in the trunk, balls-out naked, you gon' die
Any place on God's green Earth you gon' fry
Night-night, ya goin' to bed, but not to the Stuy
[Verse 2: Cappadonna]
Ayo, hempty-dimp, I love rice and shrimp (Uh huh)
If I can't catch the plane then I'm catchin' the blimp (Yeah)
Told brown-skin, "Yeah, you can call me a pimp"
But I'm the real orphan of rap, I got lost in the pack
The streets had me trapped, I ain't know where I was at
Weeded in saucy black jeans, jewelry glossy
Early in the mornin', toast and coffee (Word)
You can't off me, your wack flows suck and exhausts me (Hey)
I got New York heat, 'bout to fuck a chick shortly (C'mon)
I'm bowlegged with dogs, can't none of y'all walk me
Honeys love me, follow me everywhere, stalk me
I'm good with the hoop, ten hut, my army tense up
You can't inch up, don't even flinch up
Honeys get wet and they panties be all drenched up
I'm comin' off the bench like I'm blowin' the bench up
Black crown, black apparel, black nunchucks
36 is hard to kill, we put a fence up
Armored tank, Masta Killa shit, black Benz truck
[Verse 3: Method Man]
Cauliflower wallabees, turkey legs, collard greens
Dollar dreams, if I'm not the T'Challa then what kinda king
Am I? My persona, man, it's nada, this is not a thing
Island got Italians, load the Talons and then bada-bing
Make 'em sing, this is not Sopranos, y'all, don't make a scene
Making cream, how I make it up without the Maybelline?
Can' with the laser beam, your favorite team's
Not the playground to play around with, just try and take a swing
Yadamean? It's not a seesaw battle
Not the bridge you wanna travel
'Cause your life expectancy on the Verrazzano is narrow
Just me, Denny and Darryl
Just before my hand cock you can see the Smith on the barrel
Hit the gravel, forever be in my shadow
Rather be up in the saddle than up the creek with no paddle
Key to the city, judge, throw away the gavel
Since the game got pretty it don't go with my apparel
Alright, there it go again
Yo, yo
[Verse 1: Ghostface Killah]
Yeah, foreign cars, we coppin' em, hoppin' in with Glocks an' them
Stick up kids on dead-end streets, we pop 'em first, we box 'em in
Behind the wheel the driver's hittin' gas before the oxygen
Tryna find whatever hoes that he can tie a sock up in
To stop the bleedin', lotta reasons, lotta goons, they wanna eat
The money pop a lotta shit, the stick-up game is outta season
First time I scoped 'em out in front of subways eatin' pizza
He didn't even peep us
This is practice, thuggin' with free access
Original hitmen, born shooters that wear glasses
Guns that stop traffic, ain't afraid to blast it, bitch
This is Iraq iron, not plastic
We hogtie, duct tape, take long drives
You in the trunk, balls-out naked, you gon' die
Any place on God's green Earth you gon' fry
Night-night, ya goin' to bed, but not to the Stuy
[Verse 2: Cappadonna]
Ayo, hempty-dimp, I love rice and shrimp (Uh huh)
If I can't catch the plane then I'm catchin' the blimp (Yeah)
Told brown-skin, "Yeah, you can call me a pimp"
But I'm the real orphan of rap, I got lost in the pack
The streets had me trapped, I ain't know where I was at
Weeded in saucy black jeans, jewelry glossy
Early in the mornin', toast and coffee (Word)
You can't off me, your wack flows suck and exhausts me (Hey)
I got New York heat, 'bout to fuck a chick shortly (C'mon)
I'm bowlegged with dogs, can't none of y'all walk me
Honeys love me, follow me everywhere, stalk me
I'm good with the hoop, ten hut, my army tense up
You can't inch up, don't even flinch up
Honeys get wet and they panties be all drenched up
I'm comin' off the bench like I'm blowin' the bench up
Black crown, black apparel, black nunchucks
36 is hard to kill, we put a fence up
Armored tank, Masta Killa shit, black Benz truck
[Verse 3: Method Man]
Cauliflower wallabees, turkey legs, collard greens
Dollar dreams, if I'm not the T'Challa then what kinda king
Am I? My persona, man, it's nada, this is not a thing
Island got Italians, load the Talons and then bada-bing
Make 'em sing, this is not Sopranos, y'all, don't make a scene
Making cream, how I make it up without the Maybelline?
Can' with the laser beam, your favorite team's
Not the playground to play around with, just try and take a swing
Yadamean? It's not a seesaw battle
Not the bridge you wanna travel
'Cause your life expectancy on the Verrazzano is narrow
Just me, Denny and Darryl
Just before my hand cock you can see the Smith on the barrel
Hit the gravel, forever be in my shadow
Rather be up in the saddle than up the creek with no paddle
Key to the city, judge, throw away the gavel
Since the game got pretty it don't go with my apparel