Mathematics, Ghostface Killah - ...On Da Radio lyrics

Ain't never fuckin' shit on here
Damn, the radio play the same shit every day
Some ol' muthafuckin' bullshit
(yeah stay the fuck off my plantation
Yeah wu Tang, Wu Tang, Wu Tang, Wu Tang
Wu Tang, Wu Tang yo, yo, yo)

Back on the block, smuggling rocks
Rocky graveyard rocks, one chain
Fiendin' on the block
I'm fed up, dunn, trynna keep
My head up, word up, pa
Sue to get this money, live out
My name God, word life, right
Gats come a dime a dozen, what up cousin?
Guess who got loose on these thugs again
Murder was the topic
Manslaughter his little daughter
Had a hundred grand, actin' like Rich Porter
For real kid, remember daffy did the bid
Bought sand
But first he ran up in his dreads quick
Stepped off, bought a phat loft
This thing must of worked
Cuz that white bitch he fucked, got an Ultima
Word up, word up, cat, can't call it pa
Yo Shallah, light up the owl, let's go crowd
Pa so we did it, weeded out, the skit ran
Dedicated to winners and losers, and then
Kid fuck it, threw on the black thing
Grabbed the mac i'm going out like Rambo
Rae count the grams, slow
Scheemin', dreaming for CREAM, fiend beamin'
Plush eyed Steven, sniffin' rat poison
Half ass breathing
Wait, can't tolerate the smell
On the fifth floor
Ricans got it locked it down, son
Light the choc'
Sure, we lit it, fat Pam gotta be home soon
Butt naked, faggot ass dred, in a back room
Approached him, through out the toast
Snatched the jewel notes
Asked him where's his African man
Before his brain throws
Against the wall, guess who
Came out the door, ya'll
Downlow, that TNT cop, kill 'em now, ya'll
Shots rained for sure, fiends hit the floor
Crack pipes, Playboy books, and vouch galore
African kid bounced, cop lost his cape
Chef got blazed and Ghost lost a leg