Ghostface Killah, Raekwon, Method Man - Yolanda's House lyrics
[Ghostface Killah, Raekwon, Method Man - Yolanda's House lyrics]
Ay, yo, I'm skinned up, Nike's is scuffed
Still buggin' earlier around four how
I escaped the bust
The way I fell cracked the face of my watch
My mans chantin' me on like "Run son!
Don't go up in the spot"
Jettin' through bushes and backyards
Neighbors is rattin' me out
Dogs is barkin' all you hear
Is the car's sirens
I'm tryin' to think and toss the iron
Bomb in my sweats got me runnin' funny
You think I'm lyin'
May God strike me if he don't like me
I'm tired and I'm out of breath
The weed got me paranoid
My heart's poundin' through my chest
Tryin' to focus up and make progress
That's what I get for
Slingin' in them projects
Next thing you know I'm in
This bitch's crib chillin'
Told her my story and like this I
Had her legs in the ceiling
Cookin' me fries, fish sticks
Hot side of them biscuit's
While she doin' this
The bitch still slidin' on lipstick
Now I got the fat stomach on
She crackin' a dutch
I'm playin' with her pussy on the couch
I'm ready to fuck
Like come here miss lady wop
Where you put the condom box?
She finished off the last one
Oh shit I hear the cops
Handcuffs and talkies
I mashed her white Yorkie
Jettin' up the stairs
Them pigs want revenge like Porky's
So I slid, hid behind the wall
Opened the door
Like ooo I seen my man Meth goin' in raw
So he jumped up balls out, hid in the closet
I'm dyin' laughin'
He said "Yo Starks be quiet!"
And let me put my drawers on
Nigga what kinda dope you on?
Shoulda knocked before you came in the spot
Ghost you wrong
Bustin' in here on that government shit
Got this chick screamin' grabbin the sheets
Tryin' to cover her tit's
She's asthmatic and you laughin' son
I bump my toe on the nightstand
Just runnin tryna grab the gun
'Cause shit's real man, you spazzin' dun
There comes a time in a man's life
He gotta toss his pack and run
You know we family like Crack and Pun
But Mr gFK, state your business after that
Be one now can it be that you hot, lord?
You did some shit on the block that
The cops tryna lock you for?
Can't believe you blowin' the spot, lord
My chick is buggin', she trippin'
My dick keep slippin' out my boxer drawers
Now I'm caught up in the drug sting
Niggas is callin' my horn
Police is hittin' every corner we on
Can't understand it, it's a thug thing
And in the middle of thought
I'm interrupted by Shallah Raekwon
I need my money Meth
Gonna buy them hundred birds
Tell Tone get at me
All them little clients want work
He know we fresh out, tell the kid meet me
Matter of fact beep me
Word to mother lord, son he got me hurt
You still fuckin' shorty? I knew it
The big mouth broad that be
Yolkin' my balls out
Her little brother wanted two bricks
You know the nigga licks
A Maybach on twenty-six
All he do is get money, hustle, he's a dick
He told me foul shit, wild shit
That nigga wear a lot of loud shit
No that Steve Rifkind style shit
Hit me with some other talk, him in New York
They robbed the Venezuelan niggas
Stabbed his son with a fork
That was Jesus' rooster's little niece
Little nooses father's homeboy
That's the kid who gave us a boost
He gave them things on the arm
Said for us to be calm
And if some beef pop off
Go ahead and ring the alarm
Still buggin' earlier around four how
I escaped the bust
The way I fell cracked the face of my watch
My mans chantin' me on like "Run son!
Don't go up in the spot"
Jettin' through bushes and backyards
Neighbors is rattin' me out
Dogs is barkin' all you hear
Is the car's sirens
I'm tryin' to think and toss the iron
Bomb in my sweats got me runnin' funny
You think I'm lyin'
May God strike me if he don't like me
I'm tired and I'm out of breath
The weed got me paranoid
My heart's poundin' through my chest
Tryin' to focus up and make progress
That's what I get for
Slingin' in them projects
Next thing you know I'm in
This bitch's crib chillin'
Told her my story and like this I
Had her legs in the ceiling
Cookin' me fries, fish sticks
Hot side of them biscuit's
While she doin' this
The bitch still slidin' on lipstick
Now I got the fat stomach on
She crackin' a dutch
I'm playin' with her pussy on the couch
I'm ready to fuck
Like come here miss lady wop
Where you put the condom box?
She finished off the last one
Oh shit I hear the cops
Handcuffs and talkies
I mashed her white Yorkie
Jettin' up the stairs
Them pigs want revenge like Porky's
So I slid, hid behind the wall
Opened the door
Like ooo I seen my man Meth goin' in raw
So he jumped up balls out, hid in the closet
I'm dyin' laughin'
He said "Yo Starks be quiet!"
And let me put my drawers on
Nigga what kinda dope you on?
Shoulda knocked before you came in the spot
Ghost you wrong
Bustin' in here on that government shit
Got this chick screamin' grabbin the sheets
Tryin' to cover her tit's
She's asthmatic and you laughin' son
I bump my toe on the nightstand
Just runnin tryna grab the gun
'Cause shit's real man, you spazzin' dun
There comes a time in a man's life
He gotta toss his pack and run
You know we family like Crack and Pun
But Mr gFK, state your business after that
Be one now can it be that you hot, lord?
You did some shit on the block that
The cops tryna lock you for?
Can't believe you blowin' the spot, lord
My chick is buggin', she trippin'
My dick keep slippin' out my boxer drawers
Now I'm caught up in the drug sting
Niggas is callin' my horn
Police is hittin' every corner we on
Can't understand it, it's a thug thing
And in the middle of thought
I'm interrupted by Shallah Raekwon
I need my money Meth
Gonna buy them hundred birds
Tell Tone get at me
All them little clients want work
He know we fresh out, tell the kid meet me
Matter of fact beep me
Word to mother lord, son he got me hurt
You still fuckin' shorty? I knew it
The big mouth broad that be
Yolkin' my balls out
Her little brother wanted two bricks
You know the nigga licks
A Maybach on twenty-six
All he do is get money, hustle, he's a dick
He told me foul shit, wild shit
That nigga wear a lot of loud shit
No that Steve Rifkind style shit
Hit me with some other talk, him in New York
They robbed the Venezuelan niggas
Stabbed his son with a fork
That was Jesus' rooster's little niece
Little nooses father's homeboy
That's the kid who gave us a boost
He gave them things on the arm
Said for us to be calm
And if some beef pop off
Go ahead and ring the alarm