Ft. T.M.F.
[Intro: Ghostface, (Big Trife)]
Yo, yeah {«New Ghostface!»}
Yeah, to glorious days {«one»}
Yeah God, check it out y’all
We back, yes yes y’all {«one»}
(Fake roller derbies)
Yeah, masked avengers
We’re here to sharpen your sword {«one»}
All praises due to T.M.F., Wu-Tang Clan
Scream on it, Ghost
[Ghostface]
Aiyyo, we at the weedgate, waitin for Jake
We want eight ravioli bags, two thirsty villians yelling bellyaches {«one»}
Heavyweight rhyme writers hittin the grass
Stash the right bitch, pull out his kite from this white bitch {«one»}
Talkin bout, «Dear Ghost, you the only nigga I know
Like when the cops come, you never hide your toast» {«one»}
Guests started mashing, CVL, Ice Water battlion
Past tense place to gold caskets {«one»}
Dru Hill bitches, specialist loungin at the mosk
Suede cufy, Rabbi come dig up a dentist {«one»}
Rhymes is made of garlic, never in the target
When the NARC’s hit, rumor is you might start to spit {«one»}
You nice Lord, sweet daddy Grace, wind lifted
On the dancefloor, mangos is free followed by Ghost {«one»}
Dug behind monument cakes, we never half-baked
Alaskan, cess-capade, pushin new court dates {«one»}
Trauma, hands is like candy canes, lay my balls on ice
The branches in my weed be the vein {«one»}
Swimsuit issue, darts sent truly from the heart, boo, I miss you
See daddy rock a wristful {«one»}
Moder-en slave God, graveyard spells, fog your goggles
Layin like needles in the hospital {«one»}
Five steps to conquer, Ax Vernon debt, big ass whistle
Ziploc your ear, here thistle {«one»}
[T.M.F. — both]
To my real bitches take your drawers off
To all my high niggas, snatch her skirt off {«one»}
Just in case she wanna play, get up in that bitch face
And tell her Ghost said, «Take your clothes off!» {«one»}
[Ghostface]
Aiyyo, the Devil planted fear inside the black babies
Fifty cent sodas in the hood, they goin crazy {«one»}
Dead meat placed on the shelves, we eat cold cuts
Fast from the heart y’all, and GROW UP {«one»}
Aiyyo, crash thru, break the glass, Tony with the goalie mask
That’s the pass, heavy ice Roley layin on the dash {«one»}
Love the grass, cauliflower hurtin when I dumped the trash
Sour mash surgeon, heavy glass up at the Wally bash {«one»}
Sunsplash, autograph blessin with your name slashed
Backdraft, four-pounders screamin with the pearly hats {«one»}
Children fix the contrast as the sound clashes
Mrs. Dash, sprinkle wit her icicle eyelash {«one»}
Ask Cap or Pendergrass for backstage passes
Special guest, no more Johnny Blaze, Johnny Mattress {«one»}
Acrobat, run up on that Love Jones actress
Distract the cat while I’m high sugar get a crack at this {«one»}
Dickin down Oprah, jumprope, David Dinkins
Watch the Black mayor of DC, hit them open
Tangerine sofa, two super soakers in the Rover
Hit the sport’s bar, tell a young lady to bend over {«one»}
Meditated yoga, powder ball, dancin with the vulture
Castor Troy layin for Travolta {«one»}
Yo, switch the lingo, five-nine-seventy
God glow, seven-fifteen, fall be heavenly {«one»}
Aiyyo, the Devil planted fear inside the black babies
Fifty cent sodas in the hood, they goin crazy {«one»}
Dead meat placed on the shelves, we eat cold cuts
Fast from the heart y’all, and GROW UP {«one»}
[Outro: Ghostface, (Trey-Mack), ]
Aiyyo, Wu-Tang Clan, T.M.F. in the motherfuckin joint
We all connect as {«one»}
(Aw shit, baby) Straight up and down y’all
(Staple-town, y’all) Yo, how many girls you gotta fuck, yo? {«one»}
(Ah-hah, knowI’msayin? Trey-Mack, what?)
How many nuts you might bust? {«one»}
Haha, straight up and down
{«one»}
(How many shots?) {«one»}
{«one»}
(That’s it) Word up
How many cakes we bake, y’all? {«one»}
(Yo, yo, yo) {«one»}
(Aw shit, haha) <...at a time, nigga?> {«one»}
{«one»}