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Stroke Of Death
Ghostface Killah (Wu-Tang Clan)
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Yeah, Solomon marked for life, a million to life
Thug for life, forever eyein' the kid
'89 stick-up kid, King of New York
Regulation party, daddy hard-body
Rowdy Brighton God-body
Smooth like a leather bop, '83 hip-hop
Top of the world, get it rizzight
Dick 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, God
Sit down and think it through, God, God
'Cause coming all outta ya face'll get ya clap, God
You are now listening to the sounds of Supreme Clientele
Step in to the party, it's me
God Almighty, Ghost still holdin' that shotty
Dust and Alizรฉ, three-quarter Timbs
Terry-cloth robes, crisp hundreds in the envelope
Dookied on the globe
Thank God for my Wallabee shoe, it done saved me
Up three-nothing and Salt Lake City
Burgundy minks, whips with sinks in 'em
Broccoli blown, illa disease breathe, elephant skin
Meet the black Boy George, dusted on my honeymoon
Bitch like my wife, she popped my Ghostface balloon
Bitches think that I'm Dominican, slaf-hash Indian
Milk on my mustache, drop to my chinny-chin
Dive into dangerous parts, buildin' with thirsty mammals
White man scream, "Swim, Starks' sharks"
Smack the jail bail bondsman, strength of eighteen Bronzemen
Tall like Karl Malone "Mailman," frame of Larry Johnson
Tony Montana blow, creamy white Havana Joe's
Old Suzanna ho, pussy sweet, banana flow
David Banner, gamma ray shots, beast will marinate
Bones splittin' fatal Wu sword style, amputate
Duck Savanna wait, we splashed the glass, ice rocks
Our cash high price 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
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