Ghostface Killah - Yolanda's House lyrics
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Lyrics to Yolanda's House : (feat. Raekwon, Method Man) [Ghostface Killah:] Ay yo I'm skinned up, Nike's is scuffed Still buggin' earlier around four how I escaped the bust The way I fell cracked the face of my watch My mans chantin' me on like "Run son! Don't go up in the spot" Jettin' through bushes and backyards, neighbors is rattin' me out Dogs is barkin' all you hear is the car's sirens I'm tryin' to think and toss the iron Bomb in my sweats got me runnin' funny, you think I'm lyin' May God strike me if he don't like me, I'm tired and I'm out of breath The weed got me paranoid, my heart's poundin' through my chest Tryin' to focus up and make progress That's what I get for slingin' in them projects Next thing you know I'm in this bitch's crib chillin' Told her my story and like this I had her legs in the ceiling Cookin' me fried fish sticks, hot side of them biscuits While she doin' this, the bitch still slidin' on lipstick Now I got the fat stomach on, she crackin' a dutch I'm playin' with her pussy on the couch, I'm ready to fuck Like come here miss lady wop, where you put the condom box? She finished off the last one, oh shit I hear the cops Handcuffs and talkies, I mashed her white Yorkie Jettin' up the stairs, them pigs want revenge like Porky's So I slid, hid behind the wall, opened the door Like ooo I seen my man Meth goin' in raw So he jumped up balls out, I hid in the closet I'm dyin' laughin', he said "Yo Starks be quiet! " [Method Man:] Now let me put my drawers on, nigga what kinda dope you on? Should've knocked before you came in the spot, Ghost you wrong Bustin' in here on the government shit Got this chick screamin' grabbin the sheets tryin' to cover her tits She's asthmatic and you laughin' son I bump my toe on the nightstand just runnin' tryin' to grab the gun Shit's real man, you spazzin' dun There comes a time in a man's life, he gotta toss his pack and run You know we family like Crack and Pun But Mr. GFK, state your business after that be one Now can it be that you hot lord? You did some shit on the block that the cops tryin to lock you for? Can't believe you blowin' the spot lord My chick is buggin', she trippin' My dick keep slippin' out my boxer drawers Now I'm caught up in the drug sting Niggas is callin' my horn, police is hittin' every corner we on Can't understand it, it's a thug thing And in the moment of thought, I'm interrupted by Shallah Raekwon [Raekwon:] I need my money Meth, gonna by them hundred birds Tell Tone get at me, all them little clients want work He know we fresh out, tell the kid meet me, matter of fact beep me Word to mother lord, son he got me hurt You still fuckin' shorty? I knew it The big mouth broad that be yolkin' my balls out Her little brother wanted two bricks You know the nigga licks, a Maybach on twenty-six All he do is get money, hustle, he's a dick He told me foul shit, wild shit That nigga wear a lot of loud shit, no that Steve Rifkind style shit Hit me with some other talk, him in New York They robbed the Venezuelan niggas, stabbed his son with a fork That was Jesus' rooster's little niece, little nooses Father's homeboy, that's the kid who gave us a boost He gave them things on the arm, said for us to be calm And if some beef pop off, go ahead and ring the alarm [ Yolanda's House Lyrics on http://www.lyricsmania.com/ ]
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