| Though we stand in the shadow of death | |
| The Lord is our God | |
| [Hook: Ghostface Killah] | |
| It's a must that I take the streets back so fast | |
| Everybody thinkin' it's not gon' last, I | |
| Got bad news, bad news, bro' man and I'm gon' stay alive | |
| I think y'all want my ******es, I empty out on ******z | |
| I'm gonna reach the top, Theodore's the crew and we ain't gon' stop now | |
| [Ghostface Killah] | |
| I'm like them '86 Brooklyn ******z, ****** if I cook coke with ******z | |
| Operate over stoves, and I brought cold techs for ******es | |
| Draped out in them goose lick pictures | |
| You ****** around and get your whole crew shot at, blaow | |
| Dare you to pop back, under cars, cryin', tryin' to come up out that | |
| Eric B. when I cut, twenty three's on a truck | |
| Like a dust joint, you'll have your whole hood stuck | |
| This is Ghost murder, we movin' like NARCs, go-carts | |
| Throwin' Sports Illustrated darts and watch | |
| Get the blade rent money, ****** your fade apart | |
| Depart when you see Starks, duck low | |
| ****** up a rapper on the regular | |
| Blow his ******' hands off his cellular | |
| This is Don Mattingly, Don Bailer, Don King or Don anything | |
| A monster, silver back Guerrilla, pa | |
| Though I sleep outside the bing | |
| [Chorus: Ghostface Killah] | |
| ******z actin' like they bustin' they heat | |
| All they life, all they did was the wheat | |
| This is Theodore, 2004 Commodores | |
| With big stupid bangers that go bezerk on any jail floor | |
| And any dance hall, to dirt bomb ******z that steel case | |
| From stores, puff raw, ****** what you heard | |
| Might wire your jaw, sip the methodone | |
| Crazy straw, ******, you want war? | |
| [Ghostface Killah] | |
| Bulletproof goose pillows | |
| I'm still alive since the last time I left | |
| Tephlon pajama set, truck armor neck neck arm, weigh your head | |
| Move a A-Bomb, get drunk and paint the whole town red | |
| ****** a 5-0, hydro and perfume bottles | |
| Blow a hole through an avocado, blitzed on the Verrazano | |
| Wish that I became a leader, the day this old school ****** | |
| Placed a burner in my hand, 'cause I was very eager | |
| Big stories to tell, jail house, rock that Supreme Clientele | |
| Bricks we buy and sell, We Made It was on, when fam post bail | |
| When they ran up in Nana house, Pops went through hell | |
| 2 O'Clock, the Apollo on, no socks, wallo's on | |
| Eatin' olives with Vodka, lampin' on plush sofas | |
| Big trophies on my wall, double X Moses, Ghost is M.C. Ultra | |
| You be suprised by the size of my holster, ****** | |
| The reason why I be dissin' ya'll ******z, cause ya'll 0-for-6 | |
| You hero head mutha******as, I'll expose you quick | |
| ****** around and get your waffle split | |
| Don Muraco when I ****, let the glock go, Gotham's bridge | |
| Feelin' like a bad parent when I dropped those kids | |
| Body, your ******' man just like the Narco's did | |
| [Chorus] |
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