[Intro: Sun God]
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Sun God... get ´em, official...
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[Sun God]
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I stay far from my opponents, pardon me dogs
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That´s why lead the call, they moving up on us
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But them g´s on the corners, move when I move
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That´s a warning, or I´mma have my goons spin a garment
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Think it´s sweet, and try to creep or run up on us
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Shit´ll get deeper than twelve foot, and you be leaking out of order
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Don´t beef, if you ain´t beefin´ for no quarters
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Cuz pain is money, you float funny when you surfin´ the water
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I´m that dude slangin´ pack by the border
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I love my life, I live it twice, cuz it´s up to me sorta
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You a fool with a mental disorder, and it´s probably your daughter
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That really love me, for the shit that I taught her
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Will Smith on the guest list, pops is the king
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I´m the fresh prince, forty oil tune, kick ya chest in
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Us that got the universe confession, pardon your dame
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I´m new to the game, but true to my lessons
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[Chorus: Ghostface Killah]
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Jeans, hoods, guns, crack
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[Ghostface Killah]
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Visions of me swallowing crack, being chased by jake
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And the sound of the razor keep hitting the plate
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And tooters is flab with rugers, with daggers and them jeans
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We chew through it, like we coming down off woolas
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And my P.O., she half Creole, I move from Philly to Dallas
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With true talent, like my name is T.O.
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So when I piss, I gotta piss slow, she know I kick them Vasine bottles
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Cuz if I´m dirty, I ain´t letting it go
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Your project steps is Ajax down, dry blood
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Maintenance men with the scrub brush, scraping the ground
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Diapers, baby rattles and broke lighters, I led many
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Horses to water, just to see if they like it
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Taste my, Betty Crock´, ready rock, bet he cock, now
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News flash, my nigga ridin´ L, laid a cop down
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Any of ya niggas want beef, I will stop clowns
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I got a bad ox´ fifth, now how the glock sound?
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[Chorus: Ghostface Killah]
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Jeans, hoods, guns, crack
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[Ghostface Killah (Sun God)]
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Aiyo, what up S.G.? (Aiyo, what´s poppin´ my nigga
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I´m just oil in the toolies, exercising my trigger
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Finger, I got the biggest bangers) Yeah, I got a crispy stainless
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Your mans ain´t fucking those hoes, they just a bunch of gamers
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(Them head shots, neck shots, probably blow they brains in
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I´m so close to the edge, pushin´ they fucking face in)
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I bet you now, them muthafuckas really start complaining
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(No hesitation, my reputation´ll leave ´em chaining)
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We go hard, like the NARC´s when we start invading
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(I copped the license and registration, to cock and aiming)
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It´s all entertainment (And all my niggas made it)
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We hard body like Wu-Tang and Iron Maiden
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(I keep the iron blazing, hands hurt
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Like a bitch when she putting braids in, I think it´s so amazing)
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We ran trains for hours, up in the Days Inn
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Hood rats and crack motels, we seen baking
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[Chorus: Ghostface Killah]
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Jeans, hoods, guns, crack
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[Outro: Ghostface Killah]
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[Sounds of crunching and eating]
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Yeah, good...
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-----------------
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Street Opera
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Ghostface Killah |