Released: February 8, 2000
Featuring: Superb Hell Razah Chip Banks
Songwriter: Hell Razah Superb Chip Banks Ghostface Killah
Producer: Carlos “6 July” Broady
[Sample]
Tony Starks fights again for survival
And by just a thin thread of electric current
Wins another victory
[Intro: Superb & (Ghostface Killah)]
Ugh, c'mon, yeah, c'mon y'all
(Bounce wit us) Hip-hop
(What? Celebrities, what?)
(Street corner) For all my niggas
Crack spot niggas
*Chip Banks starts to sing "we made it"*
Chicken ass mothafuckas, envious bitches
Yo, you know what y'all...
[Verse 1: Superb]
Make me wanna pop something, no champagne
Two-five on me, weed and crack on me
Bitch motherfucker tried to get a rep' off me
Leave him there, never know, get him off me
I remember days when we just fucked bitches
Bought a lot of clothes and, played the ave
Now we rap niggas with a lot of wardrobes
And if we want a nigga dead we pay the cash
I ain't trying to waste my career on y'all
Even scuffle with y'all, waste gear on y'all
But if I gotta go out, you know I'ma show out
You gon' fuck around and get your whole back blown out
I remember on the Island, Cay tone out
In the Mess Hall hall, about to zone out
Dumb motherfuckers with our microphone out
We just dumb motherfuckers with our microphone out
[Verse 2: Chip Banks]
See.. see.. see, see me I roll with Ghost and
Cats that carry they toast make the post and
Front page and, center-staging
When it's time to bust off them things, it ain't a game man
We rocked out own diamond rings, see them 'bling, bling'
Got big boy toys, push sixes
Dime bitches, told y'all before we import those
Jury stay froze, court cases get closed
Niggas hate Nino 'cause how fast I rose up
Like George Jefferson and 'em, stepping on 'em
The headline read, "Starks had the weapon on him"
And the vest, what y'all expect? He a vet
Plus the best, now tell me how we gon' fail
When we dealing with 'Supreme Clientele
[Chorus: Superb]
From Rikers Island to the Cayman Island
We thugs like, life is the same challenge
Do the knowledge, recognize your talent
And if you live the streets, you better stay silent
From Rikers Island to the Cayman Island
We thugs like, life is the same challenge
Do the knowledge, recognize your talent
And if you live the streets, you better stay silent
[Verse 3: Ghostface Killah]
Yo, spotted at The Mirage, Ghostface swarmed by groupies
Mingle among stars, I come in cat, invades Mars
Highlight of the century, first bet placed upon entry
Fainted when the book mentioned me
Keep balling, new systems, high sciences
Drop that, Ghost listening, track sizzling
Angelica, Judy Plum for bitches, Goines king of the century
Best sellers for niggas, stay together
Posted up trucks, leaning on the Benz cinemax smile
Shot in thirty-five lens you program
Broke bottles of Dom, seven inch bangles, back breakers
I'm a dope fiend, look at my arm, Popeye strength
Rap with a British accent, Gucci clothes
Dennis Coles in the latest fashions blow backs in
Flip raps like forty-eight bundles
Dinner plates, deadly front gates, celeb Bryant Gumbel
[Verse 4: Hell Razah]
Analyze This shit like De Niro
Words in your center ear hole
Blocks of ice like Sub-Zero, we been right since day zero
Shatter your soul like glass windows
Turn virgins to nymphos, pop these hollows
At fake cats in a Tahoe
Wild out, throw your liquor bottles
At hood rats to the richest models
We conversate like Christ and the Twelve Apostles
And life without you, held counsel with great men
To murderers in the state pen
Being caged in the wages of sin
Before they read up they pop our tape in
You ain't gotta tuck you chain in
'Cause here we want the head of Satan
Doo-rags and our pants hanging
*Chip Banks starts to sing "we made it" again*
[Outro: Ghostface Killah]
Uh-huh, uh-huh that's right y'all
Street corners, jail niggas
Riker's Island, Ge-Grey Haven
Big Un, that's right y'all
Word up, all y'all, all y'all crumbs
We made it, nigga step the fuck off
True indeed, true indeed
Yeah, Ready Red, that's right, my nigga Born
That's right yo, Lil' Free in the feds
That's right, you'll be home nigga
Yeah, we made it
Yeah, C Allah, word up
That's fam
Yeah, check it out, Staten Island
True indeed, Five boroughs
Check it, uh-huh
Tony Starks fights again for survival
And by just a thin thread of electric current
Wins another victory
[Intro: Superb & (Ghostface Killah)]
Ugh, c'mon, yeah, c'mon y'all
(Bounce wit us) Hip-hop
(What? Celebrities, what?)
(Street corner) For all my niggas
Crack spot niggas
*Chip Banks starts to sing "we made it"*
Chicken ass mothafuckas, envious bitches
Yo, you know what y'all...
[Verse 1: Superb]
Make me wanna pop something, no champagne
Two-five on me, weed and crack on me
Bitch motherfucker tried to get a rep' off me
Leave him there, never know, get him off me
I remember days when we just fucked bitches
Bought a lot of clothes and, played the ave
Now we rap niggas with a lot of wardrobes
And if we want a nigga dead we pay the cash
I ain't trying to waste my career on y'all
Even scuffle with y'all, waste gear on y'all
But if I gotta go out, you know I'ma show out
You gon' fuck around and get your whole back blown out
I remember on the Island, Cay tone out
In the Mess Hall hall, about to zone out
Dumb motherfuckers with our microphone out
We just dumb motherfuckers with our microphone out
[Verse 2: Chip Banks]
See.. see.. see, see me I roll with Ghost and
Cats that carry they toast make the post and
Front page and, center-staging
When it's time to bust off them things, it ain't a game man
We rocked out own diamond rings, see them 'bling, bling'
Got big boy toys, push sixes
Dime bitches, told y'all before we import those
Jury stay froze, court cases get closed
Niggas hate Nino 'cause how fast I rose up
Like George Jefferson and 'em, stepping on 'em
The headline read, "Starks had the weapon on him"
And the vest, what y'all expect? He a vet
Plus the best, now tell me how we gon' fail
When we dealing with 'Supreme Clientele
[Chorus: Superb]
From Rikers Island to the Cayman Island
We thugs like, life is the same challenge
Do the knowledge, recognize your talent
And if you live the streets, you better stay silent
From Rikers Island to the Cayman Island
We thugs like, life is the same challenge
Do the knowledge, recognize your talent
And if you live the streets, you better stay silent
[Verse 3: Ghostface Killah]
Yo, spotted at The Mirage, Ghostface swarmed by groupies
Mingle among stars, I come in cat, invades Mars
Highlight of the century, first bet placed upon entry
Fainted when the book mentioned me
Keep balling, new systems, high sciences
Drop that, Ghost listening, track sizzling
Angelica, Judy Plum for bitches, Goines king of the century
Best sellers for niggas, stay together
Posted up trucks, leaning on the Benz cinemax smile
Shot in thirty-five lens you program
Broke bottles of Dom, seven inch bangles, back breakers
I'm a dope fiend, look at my arm, Popeye strength
Rap with a British accent, Gucci clothes
Dennis Coles in the latest fashions blow backs in
Flip raps like forty-eight bundles
Dinner plates, deadly front gates, celeb Bryant Gumbel
[Verse 4: Hell Razah]
Analyze This shit like De Niro
Words in your center ear hole
Blocks of ice like Sub-Zero, we been right since day zero
Shatter your soul like glass windows
Turn virgins to nymphos, pop these hollows
At fake cats in a Tahoe
Wild out, throw your liquor bottles
At hood rats to the richest models
We conversate like Christ and the Twelve Apostles
And life without you, held counsel with great men
To murderers in the state pen
Being caged in the wages of sin
Before they read up they pop our tape in
You ain't gotta tuck you chain in
'Cause here we want the head of Satan
Doo-rags and our pants hanging
*Chip Banks starts to sing "we made it" again*
[Outro: Ghostface Killah]
Uh-huh, uh-huh that's right y'all
Street corners, jail niggas
Riker's Island, Ge-Grey Haven
Big Un, that's right y'all
Word up, all y'all, all y'all crumbs
We made it, nigga step the fuck off
True indeed, true indeed
Yeah, Ready Red, that's right, my nigga Born
That's right yo, Lil' Free in the feds
That's right, you'll be home nigga
Yeah, we made it
Yeah, C Allah, word up
That's fam
Yeah, check it out, Staten Island
True indeed, Five boroughs
Check it, uh-huh