Party people, your dreams have now been fulfilled (word)
Get your ass up, and let's get ill
That's right, y'all, we more than rough, we callin' your bluff
And when it comes to rhymes (Brick City)

Yo, don't scandalize mine
I spent too much time
Straight talk with the catch to etch my line walk
Never fetchin' for crime, halt, who goes there?

Yo, it's the squeeze of five fingers, puffin' Smokey the Bear
Shinin' black like Darth Vader caps, they on stare

While we rockin' it, I'll rock in it (rock in it)
Like the little ball inside the spray can
Providing three coats for both child, woman and man

God bless the God, lay these Streets wall to wall
It go, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh
Yo, you got popped like a flick by that rivalry clique
It went, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh

It ain't my fault your ass is on the asphalt ('phalt)
Got your chin touched by my fam who though you brought harm, you see
I'm iced out like a glass of tea
Better yet, oatmeal cookies, y'all just rookies to me
Slidin' up and down the court, but I don't think you can D
Why try? Maseo be gettin high since Luke was Luke Skywalk' (yo)
Man, my topic of talk is sheddin' shame all over your game
Like them shorties who claim that Afrocentric lovin' is the past drug (what?)
A life filled with (guns) that's what thugs love
Snatch you fast, wrap that ass in the rug of your choice
While it muffles your voice

Now when I'm swimmin' through the joint, I put the funk on hold
'Cause if you don't, you'll see the bubbles come up
We run up a tab and gladly add a little extra for miss
Flashy faces with bigger lips for that ass to kiss

Most crews are post-current while we're forever
Direct beats that's contagious, loved by all ages
Graduated from the you-and-I-versity
Of hard-hitters, for real

Yo, I got niggas in the streets that'll blast your ass for the shine
And get, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh
Yo, if you a fat chick gettin' your fuck on tonight
Then go, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh
Yo, put your hands opposite to the ground if you're lovin' our sound
Go, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh
Yo, and to my broke niggas on the corner holdin' me down
Go, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh

Yo, I swear Tommy gon' get it, he done did me wrong
I had plans to buy more land, plant corn
Bust kernels on heat, work hard like wetbacks
Set backs is gonna get my ass to be hostile
Rockwilder the beat, top dollar defeat (uh-huh)
Big money's make the big decisions
Keep Hip Hop alive, it's just an intermission (yeah)
Back to the second half of the feature flick
Dick stacks and fuck rap

I had a name for makin' paper since papier-mâché (come on)
Now my dollar coins join pounds of Yen for play
While you broke niggas reach drunk much quicker
You don't make enough bread to soak up all your liquor
Went from God to Goddamn

Damn, God, you're killin' it
Should incorporate it, invest half a mil' in it
Rap cats talk with no will in it (uh-huh)

Soundin' like they virtual
This joint'll hurt you, yo

'Twas the night before Christmas and my crib got robbed (shh, shh, shh, shh)
They did a job (shit)
Took all my goodies out from under the tree, except the CD's (word up)
Of shiny suit rappers and flossin' emcees
Who fail at takin' it to rhyme degrees

Man, you know them whack poems get no play in our homes (nah, man)
You need to not get nappy with me
Or else we gon' relax your mind, let your conscious be free

Yo, where my Wall Street niggas, if ya up in the stands
Go, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh
To my women that'll throw they hands against they punk-ass man
Go, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh
Yo, if you never been shot or stabbed
Brick City go, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh
Yo, I gotta catch a cab back to the lab so I can smoke
Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh (yeah, yeah, yeah)

Yeah (too smoked)
Right now they call me, Hardcore Motherfucker

Hey, Hip Hoppers, tired of that old trend of ghostwriters?
Well, here's the newest sensation that's sweepin' the nation
Ghost Weed, Ghost Weed
Hey ballers, ballettes, thugs, chickenheads
Take a listen to how Ghost Weed
Will help you kick it like your favorite rapper
Just a couple of hits and it's gangster
Watch how we secretly sabotaged this cypher with Ghost Weed

(Give me that back) nah, just, step back off
(Let me get some) I got Pharoahe Monch, I'ma do it
(Yo, you gonna fuck that shit up, man) I got that kid like, whoa
I'm sayin', uh
Yo, you need to take some more, son
Yo, I take another hit
(Ghost Weed) (oh, shit, ah)
(That's that fire shit, yo)
Yo, y'all gonna let me get busy though, real quick? (Yo, alright)
I wanna, I wanna hear you rhyme (y'all gon', y'all gon')
You might sound nice 'cause I'm high now but (you wanna hear me rhyme? Uh)
Check my ad lib, uh
Yeah, aight word, yeah, okay, yeah (word)
I'm ready, drop that beat (alright)

How many niggas who will actually kill still rhymin'?
How many niggas who are actually signed
Still killin'? (Yo, yo' voice sound buck)
And when it comes to killin' a mic, they ain't willin' (for real, yo)
And I'm supposed to be shook? That's the shit that kills me
Take a bullet for X in the ballroom and then vanish (sounds like him)
Extinguish the sun when I drool, play pool with the planets
Triskadekaphobia lyrics, outlandish
My shit straight from the soul, god damnit
It's the one time only, vernacular original
Spectacular miraculous flow, computer digital (woo)
I ridicule the pitiful, piss upon the miniscule
Pharoahe Monch, better park that ass like municipal

Yo, you ripped that shit
You ripped that shit, kid (killed it)
That was dope, that was dope (way outta control, B)
(It did not sound like Pharoahe) whatever, why you hatin'?
Yo, he kinda had that yo, he kinda had that
Nah, man, it did not sound like Pharoahe (hey, stop hatin')
You need to congratulate, stop hatin'
It was the weed, it was the trees (I'm sayin' you need to pass that weed)
Whatever, don't hate, congratulate (you know I'm sayin')
Ghost Weed

Lyrics submitted by Holden666

Oooh. Lyrics as written by Kelvin Mercer David Jolicoeur

Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.

Lyrics powered by LyricFind

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