album cover
One
795
R&B/Soul
Utwór One został wydany 8 lutego 2000 przez Epic/Razor Sharp Records jako część albumu Supreme Clientele
album cover
Data wydania8 lutego 2000
WytwórniaEpic/Razor Sharp Records
JęzykEnglish
Melodyjność
Akustyczność
Valence
Taneczność
Energia
BPM89

Kredyty

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Ghostface Killah
Ghostface Killah
Performer
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Ghostface Killah
Ghostface Killah
Lyrics
David Porter
David Porter
Songwriter
Jerry Tineo
Jerry Tineo
Songwriter
Bettye Crutcher
Bettye Crutcher
Songwriter
Dennis Coles
Dennis Coles
Songwriter
Ronnie Williams
Ronnie Williams
Songwriter
RZA
RZA
Arranger
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Ghostface Killah
Ghostface Killah
Executive Producer
Juju
Juju
Producer
RZA
RZA
Executive Producer
Mitchell Diggs
Mitchell Diggs
Executive Producer
Jose "Choco" Reynoso
Jose "Choco" Reynoso
Mixing Engineer
Chris Athens
Chris Athens
Mastering Engineer
Nolan Moffitte
Nolan Moffitte
Recording Engineer

Tekst Utworu

[Intro]
Yeah, new Ghostface! (True, indeed)
Glorious days, (True, indeed, God)
Check it out, y'all
We back, yes, yes, y'all (Fake roller derbies), yeah
Masked avengers, (We're here to sharpen your sword)
All praise is due, T.M.F., Wu-Tang Clan
Scream on it, Ghost (Ayo)
[Verse 1]
We at the **** gate waiting for Jake
We want eight ravioli bags, two thirsty villains yelling bellyaches
Heavyweight rhyme writers, hitting the grass that's the ripe ****
Pull out this kite from this white *****
Talking 'bout, "Dear Ghost, you the only ***** I know
Like when the cops come, you never hide your toast"
Guest starred in mad ****, CBL, Ice Water metallic
Past tense placed in gold caskets
Dru Hill *******, specialist lounging at the mosque
Suede kufi wrap, undercover dentist
Rhymes is made of garlic, never in the target when the NARCs hit
Rumor is you might start to spit
You nice, Lord, sweet daddy Grace, wind lifted on the dance floor
Makeover's free followed by gauze
Duncan Hines monument cakes, we never half-baked
Alaskan, sexcapade, push your new court dates
Trauma, hands is like candy canes, lay my ***** on ice
The branches in my **** be the vein
Swimsuit issue, darts sent truly from the heart, boo, I miss you
See daddy rock a wristful
Modern-day slave God, graveyard spells fog you goggles
Laying like needles in the hospital
Five steps to conquer, ask Bernadette, Baguette swizzle
Ziploc the air, hear thistle
[PreChorus]
To my real ******* take your drawers off
To all my high ******, snatch her skirt off
Just in case she wanna play, get up in that ***** face
And tell her Ghost said, "Take your clothes off"
[Chorus]
Ayo, the Devil planted fear inside the black babies
Fifty cent sodas in the hood, they going crazy
Dead meat placed on the shelves, we eat cold cuts
Fast from the hog y'all and grow up (Grow up)
[Verse 2]
Ayo, crash through, break the glass, Tony with the goalie mask
That's the past, heavy ice Rollie laying on the dash
Love the grass, cauliflower hurting when I dumped the trash
Sour mash served in every glass up at the Wally Bash
Sunsplash, autograph blessing with your name slashed
Backdraft, four-pounders screaming with the pearly ash
Children fix the contrast as the sound clashes
Mrs. Dash, sprinkle with her icicle eyelash
Ask Cappa Pendergrass for backstage passes
Special guest, no more Johnny Blaze, Johnny Mathis
Acrobat, run up on that Love Jones actress
Distract the cat while I'm high, sugar, get a crack at this
******* down Oprah, jump rope, David Dinkins
Watch the black mayor of DC hit the mocha
Tangerine sofa, two super soakers in the Rover
Hit the sports bar, tell a young lady to bend over
Meditated yoga, Paddle Ball, dancing with the vulture
Castor Troy laying for Travolta
Yo, switch the lingo, five-nine-seventy
God glow, seven fifteen four be ebony
[Chorus]
Ayo, the Devil planted fear inside the black babies
Fifty cent sodas in the hood, they going crazy
Dead meat placed on the shelves, we eat cold cuts
Fast from the hog y'all and grow up
[Outro]
Ayo, Wu-Tang Clan, T.M.F. in the ************* joint
We all connect as one
That's it, baby, straight up and down y'all, Staple-town, y'all
Yo, how many girls you gotta ****, yo? One
Ah-hah, that's it? (Trey-Mack, what? Shaolin), yo
Staple-town, B (What?)
How many **** you might bust? One
Haha, straight up and down (What?)
Take to drop a *****, yo (What?)
How many shots? One
How many shots? I'm gunnin' for the dome
And it only takes one
That's it, word up
How many cakes we bake, y'all? One
Yo, yo, yo, how many ** we smoke? One
Hahaha, at a time, *****
At a time, you know we do, at a time
Dope fiends, dummy
Written by: Bettye Crutcher, David Porter, Ghostface Killah, Jerry Tineo, Ronnie Williams
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