Ghostface Killah - The Champ (Remix)

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"Just Blaze!"



[Ghostface Killah]

Godzilla bankroll, stones from Sierra Leone

Yo I ain't got it all, that means I barely home

Trailblazer stay ballin, revenge is my arts

Is crafty darts, while y'all stuck on Laffy Taffy

Wonderin' how did y'all niggaz get past me

I been doin this before Nas dropped the Nasty

My wallos I did 'em up, them bricks I send 'em up

My raps y'all bit 'em up, for that now stick 'em up

Ten Four good buddy Tone got is money up

Worth millions still back your bitch lookin bummy what

Ya'll staring at the angel of death

Liar liar pants on fire You burning up like David Koresh

This is architect music, verbal street opera

pop a 'tec man fully got the projects booming indeed

I ran through the tunnel, Terrorize speed

That's when I was still in the jungle slangin that D



[bell rings]



[Ghostface Killah]

I'mma go hard on ya'll niggas

Dart ya'll niggas out, dropping science

To let ya'll know what the kid about

I hang like the disco ball, on the floor

I'm like John Travolta, suade blazing with my chest showing

Rings and them hard jeans, please, I'm comfy in the spot

So I'm never handcuffing my queen

It's a Theodore movement, glock holding kids

With the chocolate boomers, aiyo fuck those rumors

Leave your chick around me, I'll get those bloomers

Bang that like Desi Arness, with the cowskin cougars

Keep staring down the eyes of the champ, anywhere in this rap shit

Punk muthafucka, I get you blamped, word life, my throat is high

See RiggaTone with the velvet mask on

Cleaning his glass arm...



[bell rings]



[Ghostface Killah]

Who want to battle the Don?

I'm James Bond in the Octagon with two razors

Bet cha'all didn't know I had a fake arm

I lost it, wild and raw before rap, I was gettin' it on

Took a fat nigga out in like 40secs

My gun get hard wit a 45 still erects and eagle on

Kangol hat slanted coconut bounce to Morocco

Guerilla medallions like Flavor Flav clock yo

Niggaz want me dead but they scared to step to me

Rip they guts out like a hysterectomy

When beef collide look on the flip by the penitentiary kite

Or get you bumped off from the inside

Jaws is hanging

Frauds is leftin they draws on the floor complaining

Bird ass nigga resemble Keenon Ivory Wayans

Stay in your place dirt born rappers get Shadow box for training

Ya'll still eatin bacon



[bell rings]



[Interlude: Ghostface Killah]

Yeah nigga, that's right

You know you messing with a dart master right now, yo



[Ghostface Killah]

Yo, I've done walked on fire (fire), never got burnt (burnt)

Slept on glass (glass), never got cut (cut)

And broke a few nose bones, yo, light off a round or two

At certain dudes where they dropped they phones

Yo this straight crack (yeah), even my hand got tooken to jail

For writing murder, my wrist couldn't take it in bail

They left my fingers for dead, told 'em

"I ain't have nothing to do with the writing"

I hold you down when you be squeezing that lead

Shopping sprees, with my mans on the corner watch D's

Rolling in threes, in them purple capri's'

A gritty bop, my watch is bigger, wallo's with the gold tassels

Your old slave, with Starkey Love on the shackle

And I stay fly underwater, my toes is iced out

Poofed the nails off, ya faggots can figure the price out

It's chump change, ya'll bitch niggas go get my coco

Get my slippers, before I go gun ho!



[bell rings]



[Ghostface Killah]

I like the deuce of diamonds cutting spades on a glass table

Half a mil on my left ankle

Terry cloth Guess shorts robes is comfortable

Bring me a nice bitch that means I'll fuck with you

My swagger is Mick Jagger, 'stones' is 'rolling'

Prestige is cut to it tea spark when weed went up

The Cocoa leaf is slightly damp

Sprouting in the backyard next to Gran duke tomato plants

And jets get charted marquee shit with the cars on it

They head and they earl to the toilet and vomit

Back East summer MC king since Cuban

Pretty Tone Iron Man and Bulletproof and Supreme

Cuffi on, double deuce in the jeans

My man shape was on the floor with the mother load both of them green

IBF WBC Cruiserweight title shots and Rap belts belong to D.C.











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