作词 : Dennis Coles/Robert Diggs 作曲 : Dennis Coles/Robert Diggs Yeah, Soloman marked for life, a million to life Thug for life, forever eyein' the kid'89 stick-up kid, King of New YorkRegulation party, daddy hard body Rowdy Brighton God-bodySmooth like a leather bop, '83 hip-hop Top of the world, get it rizzight big to your wizzife Murder cats for the right prizzice Four-hundred and fifty-six on the dizzice This is real lizzife, ain't nothin' sweet GodSit down and think it through God, God'Cuz comin' all outta ya face'll get ya clap, GodYou are now listening to the sounds of Supreme Clientele Step in to the party, it's me God Almighty, Ghost still holdin' that shotty Dustin Alize', three-quarter Timbs, Terry-cloth robes Crisp hundreds in the envelope, duke it on the globe Thank God for my Wallabee shoes, they done saved me Up three-nothin' and Salt Lake CityBurgundy minks, whips with sinks in 'em Brocolli blown, illa disease breath, elephant skin Meet the black Boy George, dusted on my honeymoon ***** like my wife, she popped my Ghostface balloon *****es think that I'm Dominican, slap-hash IndianMilk on my mustache, drop to my chiny-chin Dive into dangerous parts, buildin' with thirsty mammals White man scream, "Swim Starks sharks" Smack the girl, bailbonds man stripped of eighteen bronz man Tall like Carl Malone "Mailman", framed on Larry Johnson Tony Montana blow, creamy white Havana Joe's Old Suzanna hoe, ***** sweet, banana flow David Banner, gamma ray shots, beast will marinate Bones splitted fatal Wu swords, sour amputate Duck Savanna wait, we splashed the glass, ice rocks Our cash high right stock, our logo's on your rice box Plus your dice box, on the side upon your white socks Bobby got the mic cocked, buck, buck, nice shot
作词 : Dennis Coles/Robert Diggs 作曲 : Dennis Coles/Robert Diggs Yeah, Soloman marked for life, a million to life Thug for life, forever eyein' the kid'89 stick-up kid, King of New YorkRegulation party, daddy hard body Rowdy Brighton God-bodySmooth like a leather bop, '83 hip-hop Top of the world, get it rizzight big to your wizzife Murder cats for the right prizzice Four-hundred and fifty-six on the dizzice This is real lizzife, ain't nothin' sweet GodSit down and think it through God, God'Cuz comin' all outta ya face'll get ya clap, GodYou are now listening to the sounds of Supreme Clientele Step in to the party, it's me God Almighty, Ghost still holdin' that shotty Dustin Alize', three-quarter Timbs, Terry-cloth robes Crisp hundreds in the envelope, duke it on the globe Thank God for my Wallabee shoes, they done saved me Up three-nothin' and Salt Lake CityBurgundy minks, whips with sinks in 'em Brocolli blown, illa disease breath, elephant skin Meet the black Boy George, dusted on my honeymoon ***** like my wife, she popped my Ghostface balloon *****es think that I'm Dominican, slap-hash IndianMilk on my mustache, drop to my chiny-chin Dive into dangerous parts, buildin' with thirsty mammals White man scream, "Swim Starks sharks" Smack the girl, bailbonds man stripped of eighteen bronz man Tall like Carl Malone "Mailman", framed on Larry Johnson Tony Montana blow, creamy white Havana Joe's Old Suzanna hoe, ***** sweet, banana flow David Banner, gamma ray shots, beast will marinate Bones splitted fatal Wu swords, sour amputate Duck Savanna wait, we splashed the glass, ice rocks Our cash high right stock, our logo's on your rice box Plus your dice box, on the side upon your white socks Bobby got the mic cocked, buck, buck, nice shot
