This guy is a bulldozer with a wrecking ball attached
He’ll leave a ring around your eye and tread marks on your back
He’s an animal
He’s hungry
You ain’t been hungry since «Supreme Clientele»
Remember what you first told me when I took ya in You wanted to be a fighter (Yeah!)
You wanted to be a killer (New York stand Up)
You wanted to be the Champ! (It's got your boy in the booth nigga)
You ain’t hungry
Matter of fact I don’t want you in my gym ('bout to take New York with this
shit)
Get out of my ring, you disgust me Godzilla bankroll
Stones from Stilion
Yo I ain’t got it all, that means I’m barely home
Trailblazer stay ballin
Revenge is my arts is crafty darts
While y’all stuck on Laffy Taffy
Wonderin’how did y’all niggaz get past me I been doin’this before Nas dropped the Nasty
My wallos I did 'em up Them bricks I sent 'em up My raps y’all bit 'em up For that now stick 'em up Ten Four good buddy Tone got his money up Worth millions still back your bitch lookin bummy what
Ya’ll staring at the angel of death
Liar liar pants on fire you burning up like David Koresh
This is architect music
I’m a verbal street opera, pop a Tek man fully got the projects booming indeed
I ran through the tunnel
Terrorize speed
That’s when I was still in the jungle slingin’that D Get out my face! I don’t need nothin’you got no mo'.
Don’t need no has-been messin’up my corner
And you better get that bad look off your face for I knock it off
Hey fool, you ready for another beating?
You shoulda never came back
Look here man, after I crucify him, you next!
And you better have a good doctor to rearrange your face
I’m the Champ!
Who want to battle the Don?
I’m James Bond in the Octagon with two razors
Bet cha’all didn’t know I had a fake arm
I lost it, wild and raw before rap, I was gettin’it on Took a fat nigga out in like 40 seconds
My gun get hard wit a 45 still erects and eagle on Kangol hat slanted coconut bounce to Morocco
Guerilla medallions like Flavor Flav clock yo Niggaz want me dead but they scared to step to me Rip they guts out like a hysterectomy
When beef collide look on the flip by the penitentiary kite
Or get you bumped off from the inside
Jaws is hanging
Frauds is left in they drawers, on the floor complaining
Bird ass nigga resemble Keenon Ivory Wayans
Stay in your place dirt born rappers get shadow-boxed for training
Ya’ll still eatin bacon
Gettin’out while you can? Don’t give this nigga no statue give him death
I told y’all I wasn’t going away
You had your shot now give me mine
Now why don’t you tell all these nice folks why you been ducking me,
politics man
This country wants to keep me down
They don’t want me to have the title
Because I’m not a puppet like that fool up there
Ask his woman--she get more pipe from the plumber than in bed
I’m the Champ!
I’m like the deuce of diamonds cutting spades on a glass table
Half a mil on my left ankle
Terrycloth Guess shorts robes is comfortable
Bring me a nice bitch that means I’ll fuck with you
My swagger is Mick Jagger, Stones is Rollin'
Prestige is cut to a tee, sparkin’weed went up The Cocoa leaf is slightly damp
Sproutin’in the backyard next to Gran duke tomato plants
And jets get charted marquee shit with the cars on it The haters, they earl run to the toilet and vomit
Back East summer MC king since Cuban
Pretty Tone Iron Man Bulletproof and Supreme
Proof and you double deuce in the jeans
My man Snake was on the floor with the motherlode both of them green
IBF WBC Cruiserweight title shots, rap belts belong to D.C.
Listen I am bad, I said I am bad
I’m a bad man
I’m so bad sometimes I scares myself
Sometimes I look in the mirror and want to kiss myself I’m so pretty
Now who am I (The Man!)
Now who am I (The Man!)
Who (The Man!)
That’s right and don’t y’all forget it!
Ladies and gentlemen!
The winner by way of technical knockout and still champion of the worrrrrrrrld
Ghostface Killllllllllllllaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa