Biscuits lyrics

[Intro: Ghostface Killah]
Yo, who the f*ck brought me this chocolate sh*t, man?
I said a banana Nutrament, man
Y'all heard what the f*ck I said, I gave you the...
I wrote it on the f*ckin' paper, man!
Y'all motherf*ckers always f*ckin' around and forgettin' somethin' and sh*t
Smart dumb n*ggas and sh*t, runnin' around here and sh*t
Y'all n*ggas need to wisen up, man, yo
Get off that special ed sh*t, man

[Verse 1: Ghostface Killah]
I said Big O, hydro-face, pass me the Sazón, it's on
There goes son, tap out the hash bone
Half moon, he rock three fourth quarter length
No jewels, no rocks, his mouth was his spotlight
His gold tooth was a half a hill
That's a six digit split behind five sticks, eatin' steel, f*ck him
We gon', we gon' get our money
If he front, they gon' read about the rocks in his tummy
Mouth is red, socks is bloody, f*ck all the talkin'
Safety off and sh*t, crept up, "What up money? Freeze!
Don't move, turn around, act like James Brown
And get down! Get slapped with the pi-dound
Wasn't you the same clown? Uptown, yappin'
I keep Big Shirley on my side, so what's happenin'?"
Try eatin' these shells, they non-fattening
After you digest that, I'ma stomp you bast*rds
So take that – blaow, blaow!
"Ghost, he still breathing!" – Blaow, blaow!
Anything after that, it don't matter
Your homies and your close relatives
Even them nosey ass pigs'll get splattered
It's the T-H-E-O-D-O-R-E
Send me to Iraq, I come back with don heat
Teeth, less than a week, they'll be callin' me
Chief of Defense, 'cause I sure do cook when it's beef
[Chorus: Ghostface Killah & Trife]
Yo, what up?
Meet– these– O.G.'s
Co-D's in baller sh*t, long biscuits
f*ck around, take all your sh*t
Call your bluff
Y'all faggots don't want no beef
Grind your teeth
And just, roll with it, don't risk it
f*ck around and be a statistic

[Verse 2: Trife Diesel]
Yo, yo, n*ggas ask why I use my Glock
'Cause it's 2003, motherf*cker, I refuse to box
I'm true to block, strip you for your shoes and socks
Remove your watch, or I'ma have to lose your top
I'm from a place where junkheads and zombies dwell
And n*ggas keep the heat blazin' like Bonzi Wells
Don't ever talk to a n*gga like I'm one of your kids
'Cause I'll c*ck back the MAC and pop one in your ribs
So homeboy, keep runnin' your jibs
I'ma run in your crib, pistol whip you right in front of your wiz
My n*gga, that's how it is, I get it, just how I live
'Cause me without a gun is like Queens without the bridge
Classic cut, this is how a O.G. live
Lamp in villas, and still get heard with no spins
This is Trife Diesel, New York's backbone, back home, back blown
It's Theodore, n*gga, f*ck your wack stones
[Chorus: Ghostface Killah & Trife]
Yo, what up?
Meet– these– O.G.'s
Co-D's in baller sh*t, long biscuits
f*ck around, take all your sh*t
Call your bluff
Y'all faggots don't want no beef
Grind your teeth
And just, roll with it, don't risk it
f*ck around and be a statistic

Yo, what up?
Meet– these– O.G.'s
Co-D's in baller sh*t, long biscuits
f*ck around, take all your sh*t
Call your bluff
Y'all faggots don't want no beef
Grind your teeth
And just, roll with it, don't risk it
f*ck around and be a statistic

[Outro: Ghostface Killah, over the Chorus]
That's right, it's real!
It's that motherf*ckin' Theodore sh*t! Nahmean
Staten Island, live sh*t, y'all, straight up and down
Nothin' but that cutthroat sh*t
Blowin' n*ggas back home, you nahmean?
I don't give a f*ck
We could take it there – whatever!
Hits? We got 'em, n*gga!
Yeah, now I'ma strangle the game!
No doubt, it's real right now, motherf*cker
Y'all n*ggas done done it – f*ck y'all doin'
(I'ma get the f*ck outta this f*ckin' booth...)