Music Video

Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
The Sweet Inspirations
The Sweet Inspirations
Sampled Artist
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Jerry Tineo
Jerry Tineo
Songwriter
David Porter
David Porter
Songwriter
Bettye Crutcher
Bettye Crutcher
Songwriter
Dennis Coles
Dennis Coles
Songwriter
Ronnie Williams
Ronnie Williams
Songwriter
RZA
RZA
Arranger
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Juju
Juju
Producer
Chris Athens
Chris Athens
Mastering Engineer
Nolan Moffitte
Nolan Moffitte
Recording Engineer
Jose Reynoso
Jose Reynoso
Mixing Engineer

Lyrics

Yo, yeah (New Ghostface!) Yeah, to glorious days (one) Yeah God, check it out y'all We back, yes yes y'all (one) (Fake roller derbies) Yeah, masked avengers We're here to sharpen your sword (one) All praises due to T.M.F., Wu-Tang Clan Scream on it, Ghost Aiyyo, we at the weedgate, waitin for Jake We want eight ravioli bags, two thirsty villians yelling bellyaches (one) Heavyweight rhyme writers hittin the grass Stash the right bitch, pull out his kite from this white bitch (one) Talkin bout, "Dear Ghost, you the only nigga I know Like when the cops come, you never hide your toast" (one) Guests started mashing, CVL, Ice Water battlion Past tense place to gold caskets (one) Dru Hill bitches, specialist loungin at the mosk Suede cufy, Rabbi come dig up a dentist (one) Rhymes is made of garlic, never in the target When the NARC's hit, rumor is you might start to spit (one) You nice Lord, sweet daddy Grace, wind lifted On the dancefloor, mangos is free followed by Ghost (one) Dug behind monument cakes, we never half-baked Alaskan, cess-capade, pushin new court dates (one) Trauma, hands is like candy canes, lay my balls on ice The branches in my weed be the vein (one) Swimsuit issue, darts sent truly from the heart, boo, I miss you See daddy rock a wristful (one) Moder-en slave God, graveyard spells, fog your goggles Layin like needles in the hospital (one) Five steps to conquer, Ax Vernon debt, big ass whistle Ziploc your ear, here thistle (one) To my real bitches take your drawers off To all my high niggas, snatch her skirt off (one) Just in case she wanna play, get up in that bitch face And tell her Ghost said, "Take your clothes off!" (one) The Devil planted fear inside the black babies Fifty cent sodas in the hood, they goin crazy (one) Dead meat placed on the shelves, we eat cold cuts Fast from the heart y'all, and GROW UP (one) Aiyyo, crash thru, break the glass, Tony with the goalie mask That's the pass, heavy ice Roley layin on the dash (one) Love the grass, cauliflower hurtin when I dumped the trash Sour mash surgeon, heavy glass up at the Wally bash (one) Sunsplash, autograph blessin with your name slashed Backdraft, four-pounders screamin with the pearly hats (one) Children fix the contrast as the sound clashes Mrs. Dash, sprinkle wit her icicle eyelash (one) Ask Cap or Pendergrass for backstage passes Special guest, no more Johnny Blaze, Johnny Mattress (one) Acrobat, run up on that Love Jones actress Distract the cat while I'm high sugar get a crack at this (one) Dickin down Oprah, jumprope, David Dinkins Watch the Black mayor of DC, hit them open Tangerine sofa, two super soakers in the Rover Hit the sport's bar, tell a young lady to bend over (one) Meditated yoga, powder ball, dancin with the vulture Castor Troy layin for Travolta (one) Yo, switch the lingo, five-nine-seventy God glow, seven-fifteen, fall be heavenly (one) Ayyo, the Devil planted fear inside the black babies Fifty cent sodas in the hood, they goin crazy (one) Dead meat placed on the shelves, we eat cold cuts Fast from the heart y'all, and GROW UP (one) Ayyo, Wu-Tang Clan, T.M.F. in the motherfuckin joint We all connect as (one) (Aw shit, baby) Straight up and down y'all (Staple-town, y'all) Yo, how many girls you gotta fuck, yo? (one) (Ah-hah, knowI'msayin? Trey-Mack, what?) How many nuts you might bust? (one) Haha, straight up and down Drop a nigga y'all (one) (How many shots?) I'm gunnin' for the don, and it only takes (one) (That's it) Word up How many cakes we bake, y'all? (one) (Yo, yo, yo) (one) How many Ls we smokin' at a time nigga, at a time (one) How many dopine, you know what I mean, like- like- like- (one) How many bags does it take to get the dopine- (one)
Writer(s): James Dewitt Yancey, R.l. Iii Altman, Titus Printice Glover, Jason Powers Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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