Ghostface Killah: 9 Milli bros

Intro: (RZA) Bob Digi, U G.O.D, Raekwon the Chef, the Inspektah DeckM.E.T.H.O.D. (Man), the B.O.B.B., straight up, Masta Killa, the Gza, the Genius..It's the Ol' D-d-dza-za-za Diiiirty Bastard! (music starts)[ODB] Straight Up..turn it up, the headphones, turn it up..yo you here me?[Cappadonna] Wutup Toney?[Ghostface] Wsup don' don'..[ODB] All the way up..[Ghost]You know how we do..[Cappa] Let's get this paper together..[Ghost]You motherfuckin' right Pa, uh huh.[Cappa] That's right, c'mon nigga..[ODB]That's as far as it goes?[Ghost] Sound about to go off on some real live Wu-shit, uh huh[Cappa] W-T-C[RZA] Ghost-FACE![Ghost] Lemme give y'all the bullshit hook for y'all niggas, check it out...[Hook: Ghostface Killah]The burners in the stash, we about the cashWe got females that got it like thatThe golden childs that bone the crowdSee niggas in the place that bit my styleWell I'm a singer, dancer, we bulletproof brothersWu-Tang got the answerrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.....Cuz if I had a chance, to do it againI will still keep the heat in my pants, uh[Ghostface Killah]Y'all be nice to the crackheads, everybody listen upI shot one of my bitches, the hoe ain't trick enoughWord life to big screen Don, tapping dustbones outWith starwriters like I fucked Celine DionStuck everything that's the god's honest beyondWe airin' niggas out that's the type shit that we onOfficial Wu-Tang headbangerFlood your space with big waves like you didn't set an anchor[Raekwon the Chef]Yo, I drink heavy gallons of Crew, play the big partniggas got squid on the grill, selling kids ClarksFinesse notes, yo, the Guess on with the best poseYellow swede one matching hat with the grey gunNiggas be rhymin' for nothing, then my team pull upWe all throw down y'all broke niggas stay frontin'Lines come digital stupid, plus my team got'nuff jury on, bet I'm still live and I'm coopin'Two of my silverbacks run through a pack of your wolvesFront on react and sippin' Cog-i-nac so relax dudeKnow I'm with these cracks dude[ODB] Yo, 1, 2...Dirt McGirt!Solid tone smith with 5th shots, lick shotsLeave your head like a Shaolin monk with 6 dotsBrooklyn, Zoo, Zoo (Yo)Brooooklynnnnnnn....ZOO! (Yo!)[Cappadonna]It's the return of Bin Laden, grab your armorSmash pretty boy niggas, crush they karmaEat bones with alligators, roll deep, with my entourageMy whole crew's fresh out the barsDiggler, AKA the Cab DriverDrop him off in the middle of fireDirty Island, drag bodies to the murderlandKnock niggas out hurtin' my hand[Method Man]I remember in the elevators when we was playin' cornersNow we play the corners and the cops is stayin' on us, (uh)Staten's where the war iswhere the court system's running out of warrantsWhere TNT be jumping out the TaurusFor real I can't call ityou see I love Lucy cuz she LawlessExactly like that 1-0-3-0-4 isSnitch niggas swallow your tongueAlready know the island I'm fromAnd y'all don't want no problems with them[Genius/GZA]We got a history, full of lightning victoriesConceptual breakthrough it ain't no mysteryLong vision, from giants in every wayRap czars, magnificent flows for every dayFrom the East to the ville, from the West to the hillsIncredible rhymes, encouraging skillFrom rat packs, the smallest crews were enormousThey hit 'em fast, with an effortless performanceMCs start fleeing in flocksEspecially those that's more sensitive to heat and shock[Inspektah Deck]We grindin', down to the boneMy name grounded in stoneI'm Mr. Violence we loungin' with ChromeMr. Violence we lounge in his home, hit the housing on RomeShining like a hundred thousand in stonesMove mountains with poems, got a jones for dinero1-6-zero my songs we throwin' elbowsThe hoes cling, sho thing, we know kingsOnly dime dikes, with minds right, we choose Queens[Masta Killa]Yeah we wild like rockstars who smash guitarsYo son split his face with the toast, he ain't GhostIt's no joke iron coat rife him with the strokeOne toke brains float, shot to the throatBefore the smoke hit, witness the killingOn the crime sceneBody on the blockEyes open from the shockOf being popped in the neckYet he still had a lit cigarette between his fingertipsDanger when you step into the chamber with the masterDisaster, gotta blast ya, cuz I hafta[U-God]The rat pack is back from the island of Stat'Leave you cursed off, cuz you worship the gatThe first one to snap drunk off the SmirnoffBlow the bouncer's ear off, let him floss he the bossHandcuffed, to the turntables like, Wizard TheodoreSee it's pure, let iy rain curly ouncesBang him with the thing that hang from the trousersYou don't want no drama, I'm flaming fastThat nigga jumped up and did the Damon Dash (Dash..)[GUNSHOT]