Ghostface Killah, Sheek Louch, Styles P - Metal Lungies Lyrics

World, world, world, premiere, premiere, premiere
World, world, world, premiere, premiere, premiere

What these clown niggas hollerin'?
What they need to be hollerin', is "There go Theodore!"
Put the ball down, we can't score
They pen shit to blackboards, make queens out of wack broads
You see us comin'? Fuck that fam shit, just pass off, you bitch
Crystal' Dana Dane's wrapped around your neck
Lookin' rich, baow, you fucked up now
See my gun, nigga? This baby got stuffed uptown
Shouted out, made a whole safe with the pump root pounds
My buddy, keep my gun, right next to my tummy
Ask the click, yo, they spit metal lungies
Detach wigs, kill flunkies off contact, son see
Didn't mommy tell y'all niggas to wear clean undies?
See y'all should of listened to her
She knew her son had a big mouth, and some day death would accur
Please for Ms. Gale's sake, and her seeds
Pass the fetty, ain't fuckin' around, they knocked to her weave

Uh-oh (word up)
There's still (what you talkin' 'bout, baby?)
Real kids spit that shit

Let's go, let's go, let's go, yo, yeah
Me and Starks clear projects parks
With our '93 shit, army coat green and light tan Clarks
Niggas think I'm lucky, bitches want to fuck me
And put me in the tub with them like I'm a rubber ducky
I got a revolver in the pump about the size of Chucky
I remember faces easy as I tie my laces
Here, put the metal in your mouth, like you was rockin' braces
I spit an iron lungie, yeah, I'm old school like the Iron Monkey
My shit powerful enough to lift a fuckin' donkey
I got heavy chrome, niggas don't care if you live or die
They happier than Marbury home
Y'all niggas better kill me, my street niggas feel me
Louch gotta eat, ends gotta meet
The hard shit you kickin' 'bout is R'n'B as Tweek
This is Theodore, D-Block, the year adore
There's who fall, with the four-four, niggas like

Uh-oh (word up) there's still (what you talkin' 'bout, baby?)
Real kids spit that shit

Yeah, nigga this is Ghost with Ghostface
I don't sell millions but I get millions from the fiends who smoke base
Somebody leavin' out with a poked face
Tone, we burn him and kick his teeth out, so we don't catch no case
I'ma make you look like you smoke base, and we don't leave no trace
These rap niggas swear that they so safe
I don't want to talk to you homes, I don't communicate
My guns they in my hand, one in my palm
And I could dial your number, knock a smile off the face
With the H.K. 9, out the all black Hummer
Metal lungies you spit, the grungiest shit
Hungriest shit, seventeen dummies a clip
Tell them rap niggas to suck my dick, fuck the industry
And shit, shut down the store, bust my shit
I got some hustlin' ass niggas that'll pump my bricks
And some dust head niggas that'll dump my clips, what?

Uh-oh (word up) there's still (what you talkin' 'bout, baby?)
Real kids spit that shit