Ghostface Killah, Trife Diesel - Clipse of DOOM lyrics

Aiyyo, turn those lights down
While I'm recording!
Matter 'fact y'all niggas get the
Fuck out the room, g!
Straight up! Sipping on
That bullshit Budweiser!
Nah'mean yo what? Fuck you too, nigga!
'Kind of pants you got on motherfucker
Capris?!
Bitch ass nigga, go get ya feet done!
Eat a dick nigga!

Catch me in the 80's drop
Old school Mercedes with a
Brand new baby Glock
Right from my Lady's sock with
Two bodies on it capricorn, Aquarius
Lost so much blood
These bitch niggas in they periods
They say I be living the role
Like 'Pac in Juice


And only fuck with cute bitches
That can fly and boost
And they ears be chandeliers, lit
Up like a lamp, who cares?!
They cooch is fierce
The only thing loose is hairs
That's right y'all
If a rap nigga say my name I'm a fight y'all
Fuck a state, light charge
My predicate status, irrelevant
My man got the big rap
Sheet that's outweighing two elephants
Jumbo shit's from New Orleans
Players and Pimps that bit off Fiends
Quick, switch with the hands, Powder
Blue wally's is dyed
Vanilla Bally's is mean
Can't none of y'all motherfuckers
Fuck with my team, uh!

Aiyyo we the live niggas holding
Heat on the street corners
Sic the beasts on you
Turn mothers to mourners
Money launderers, neighborhood coroners
Place bodies in bags
Tango with dirty Cash, Cocaine jacks
"Kings of the Hill"
Out to blow like propane gas
Package the raw, Theodore
We got the game on smash
Cause we cut from the same cloth
Big guns ready to bang off
Slide off the cables and take the rings off!

We hold the weight of four Synagogues
Jelly'd uptown in them beat down rented cars
Going mad wetting 'em
Milk cash, heavy tecks, hood rats, sexing 'em
Paris crew, little dudes
Please,! I was repping 'em
Niggas couldn't come through (word)
That's when the block was like wallpaper
Loved sticking niggas like crazy glue
Blackouts happened
God forbid don't be around!
The Bag Lady will murk you and
Let off in the next town!
She struck two times, get
Caught, good luck blood, it ain't no Heinz
Blow a hockey puck hole in
The back of your spine
She put two cut up mirrors in
The place of your eyes
So when the cops look they see theyselves
They all gonna die
Its the tale of the Crips and Bloods
Pimps and thugs
Get your face bashed in on the concrete rug
On that note I'm a say peace!
Theodore! Word to Darryl Mack's teeth!

Aiyyo we the live niggas holding
Heat on the street corners
Sic the beasts on you
Turn mothers to mourners
Money launderers, neighborhood coroners
Place bodies in bags
Tango with dirty Cash, Cocaine jacks
"Kings of the Hill"
Out to blow like propane gas
Package the raw, Theodore
We got the game on smash
Cause we cut from the same cloth
Big guns ready to bang off
Slide off the cables and take the rings off!

Yo, Ayo I'll break every bone in your wrist
Smack you in the back of your head on
The block while you holding your dick
My semi, they call it the crouching tiger
A hundred bowls of Total is trash
Because my lead eat through fibers
Peel your potato like Ore-Ida
On the day of your death people had
Candles but couldn't find no lighter
Fuck your mural! Fuck your hood!
You ain't a street legend like me!
Blake Carrington holding the Dynasty
I muffle motherfuckers up like Meineke
And write a thousand bar verse
That all rhymes with "E"
Jewel thief, Shizzam bangles
In the vault deep
And cruising deserts mad heavy
Into salt treats
I'm the taste in Bush's mouth, nasty
Afghanistan missions
Gun training in the grassy fatigues
Picking niggas off by the Red Sea
And did it all for Ghost
Sniffing on caffeine!