Ghostface Killah, Trife da God - Cocaine Trafficking lyrics

Yeah Agent Burke here
Check this shit out, nigga
I got a bust for you
Some major niggas from New York
Slinging rocks over here, majorly
Where they at? Get that gun
Where them matches at, come on!

Cocaine trafficking, your boy's back again
Moving bricks like I got
A degree in scaffolding
Fucking with some cats from Newark
Half of them Jewish
Cool white boys riding around
Blasting my music
And I'm taxin' them like Jackson-Hewitt
We out in Baltimore, the home of the Bruins
Up top the cops raiding my spot
My product got ruined
Drug case pending, but my lawyer is suing
'Cause them faggots broke my arm in a tussle
Let me start in the scuffle
Son, they tried to put the God in a duffle
But them boys can't knock the hustle
Like Hov' said we expose fed, nigga
Just give me the code red
They say a close mouth don't get fed
Well that's a lie 'Cause them faggots who be
Snitching on niggas, they sure to die
You don't want to wake up
With your seed in a cradle missing
Sweating bullets hearing wheels peel
Off from Mercedes engines
Aiyo, these blocks ain't big enough for
All of us to eat these corners is mines
So evil bow down or go to sleep
It's like jail, in order to live
You gotta earn your keep
Prepare for the shakedown
New law and order on the street
Aiyo, these blocks ain't big enough for
All of us to eat these corners is mines
So evil bow down or go to sleep
It's like jail, in order to live
You gotta earn your keep
Prepare for the shakedown
New law and order on the street

Yeah I write raps
But I sling crack for a living
Punk, anywhere
I ain't gotta ask for permission
Trife Dies', know the fiends can't miss him
Everyday on the shift, like transmission
Making them transitions
From New York to Great Britain
Upstate to San Quentin
Every corner, every block
From Broad Street to Van Sithlin
The grand picture
Haul ass when them vans blitz in
Watch for police, the word on the street
Is your man's snitching
I'm a rider like Pac
Ain't no stopping my ambitions
Getting money, twenty four seven, brethren
My hand's itching
Got me looking through the eye of the scope
And real killas move smooth
With a quiet approach
Silencers on the tools when
They fire the toast
And if you ain't dead or in jail
Then why the hell you crying, you broke
I tell a bitch, let me slide in your throat
And have her gnawning on my head
Like she high off of dope get it? good
Aiyo, these blocks ain't big enough for
All of us to eat these corners is mines
So evil bow down or go to sleep
It's like jail, in order to live
You gotta earn your keep
Prepare for the shakedown
New law and order on the street
Aiyo, these blocks ain't big enough for
All of us to eat these corners is mines
So evil bow down or go to sleep
It's like jail, in order to live
You gotta earn your keep
Prepare for the shakedown
New law and order on the street

Uh, uh, uh, uh theodore, nigga