Biscuits Lyrics - The Pretty Toney Album - Ghostface Killah

Yo... who the fuck brought me this chocolate shit, man? 

I said a banana nutriment, man 

Ya'll heard the fuck I said... I gave you 

I wrote it on the fuckin' paper, man 

Y'all muthafuckas always fuckin' around and forgettin' something and shit 

Smart dumb niggas and shit, runnin' around here and shit 

Y'all niggas need to wisen up, man, yo. 

Get off that special ed shit, man 

I said Big O, hydro-face, pass me the sazone, it's on 

There go son, tap out the hash bone 

Half moon, he rock, three's fourth quarter length 

No jewels, no rocks, it's not worth the spotlight 

His gun tool, was a half a hill 

That's a six digit slip behind five sticks, eatin' steel, fuck him 

We gon' -- we gon' get our money 

If he front, they gon' read about the rocks in his tummy 

Mouth was red, socks was bloody, fuck all the talkin' 

Safety off and shit, crept out, "What up money? Freeze!" 

Don't move, turn around, act like James Brown 

And get down! Get slapped with the p-dound 

Wasn't you the same clown? Uptown, yappin' 

I keep big Shirley on my side, so What's Happenin'? 

Try eatin' these shells, they non-fattening 

After you digest gat, I'mma stomp you bastards 

So take that. blaow, blaow! Ghost, he still breathing 

Blaow, blaow! Anything after that it don't matter 

Your homies and your close relatives 

Even them nosy ass pigs'll get splattered 

It's the T-H-E-O-D-O-R-E, send me to Iraq I come back with don heat 

Teeth, less than a week, they be callin' me 

Keep with the fists, cuz I sure do cook when it's beef 

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Yo, what up? Meet, these, O.G.'s, quote these and 

Baller' shit, long biscuits 

Fuck around, take all your shit 

Call your bluff, y'all faggots don't want no beef 

Grind your teeth, and just, roll with it, don't risk it 

Fuck around, and be a statistic 

Yo, yo, niggas ask why I use my Glock 

Cuz it's 2003, muthafucka, I refuse to box 

I'm true to block, strip you for your shoes and socks 

Remove your watch, yo I'mma have to lose your top 

I'm from a place where junkheads and zombies dwell 

And niggas keep they heat blazin' like Bonzi Wells 

Don't ever talk to a nigga like I'm one of your kids 

Cuz I'll cock back the mag and pop one in your ribs 

So homeboy, keep runnin' your jibs, I'mma run in your crib 

Pistol whip you right in front of your wiz 

My nigga, that's how it is, I get it, just how I live 

Cuz me without a gun, is like Queens without the bridge 

Classic cut, this is how a O.G. live 

Lamp in village, and still get heard with no spins 

This is Trife Diesel, New York's backbone, back home 

Black blown, it's Theodore, nigga, fuck your wack stones 

Photos 

That's right, it's real! 

It's that muthafuckin' Theodore Unit 

Nahwhatimean? Staten Island, live shit, y'all 

Straight up and down, nothin' but that cutthroat shit 

Blowin' niggas back home, you know what I mean? 

I don't give a fuck... we could take it there 

Whatever, peace, we got him nigga 

Yeah, now I'mma strangle it there 

No doubt, it's real right now, muthafucka 

Y'all niggas done done it, fuck y'all yeah 

I'mma get the fuck outta this booth