Return Of Theodore Unit Lyrics - Hidden Darts (special Edition) - Ghostface Killah

Ghostface Killah 

Hidden Darts 

Return Of Theodore Unit 

[Intro: (Trife Da God) Ghostface Killah] 

(Uh what you got here, is your approach) 

Your approach gotta more guerilla on 'em 

KnowImean? Just to make it sound official (uh) 

Yeah. yo. (it's the realest niggas on this shit, go in) 

[Ghostface Killah] 

Left the buildin on start up, heavy 

Niggaz couldn't take the chain, it's too heavy 

Word to mother, I was swingin that Shaolin Style machete 

Now when I come through it's "What up Ghost?", my folks throwin confetti 

My gear is the world premiere, ox yeah, now I'm dickin down Heather Locklear 

Rubber glock in the glove box, Benz drop yeah 

Hit the mall in Long Island, they got hens out there 

I'm not a sex symbol, gangsta or activist 

I just bubble like acid in a glass of Cris' 

My pen's is Illmatic, plush robes drag across the floor 

Gun hand is sore from choppin the raw 

And when the jet land smoked up just look right under ya 

The aircraft carry back half of Colombia 

Yeah, separate the rubble 

Stay beatin niggaz brains out with the God broke belt buckle 

Jewels, pay respect to my larynx 

My bird blew niggaz away like a clarinet 

My hoes, they so happy I ain't married yet 

And I still walk down the aisle with a plastic Tec 

Haha. 

Related 

Naughty & Nice Christmas Songs 

Watch Cardi B Joins James Corden For Carpool Karaoke 

Ariana Grande Adds Her Own Verse To "Last Christmas" 

[Interlude: Trife Da God] 

Uh, that's what I'm talking bout nigga 

That's some real words right there 

So you know, we just gon' keep this shit rolling 

Theodore, they know how we do it 

Straight up and down, introducing 

One fourth of the squad, Wiganomics 

Uh, hit 'em nigga 

[Shawn Wigs] 

Yo son I smack bitches, make 'em say "Yes, Wiggatry" 

Smoke out ya room like I'm cookin up hickory 

Dickory dock, my glock tucked by the scrotum 

It's Theodore, our chips' all in, you can't hold 'em 

Cuz the Pips be stinky like Pepi LePew 

And my style's so sick, son, they call it the flu 

Influenza, top contender 

Had ya girl head-noddin leavin marks on my Swollen Member 

I remember them days when the Stat was my home 

Now we hop state to state, flyin in and out of zones 

Had to put down the heat, picked up the microphone 

Started payin off the jewelers and flossin in stones 

Chunky and I ain't talkin chicken noodle soup 

Got a V for Vendetta this year and need to recoup 

That two point five million'll slice a Sicillian 

Next year we want the whole fuckin pie we makin a killin 

Photos 

[Interlude: Trife Da God] 

Uh, that's right nigga 

'06, bout to take us into '07 

The years is ours, from here on out 

Theodore, straight up and down 

Word up, introducing next 

You know, acknowledge the great 

My muthafuckin' man J-Love 

[J-Love] 

Aiyo, I come through like a Chicago Bears linebacker 

Call me Brian Urlacher, straight up attack you 

Then I backslap you, yeah, ya niggas get flipped 

Son, I've never been a punk faggot ass idiot 

Get snatched in all letters, Puerto Rican bitch fetish 

Call me the streets, or the mixtape terrorist 

I get respected, like a Pride Fighter champion 

Out in Japan, I was ready to smash one 

It's real, son, I hold down my squadron 

Ghostface and Life scared Madison Square Garden 

Is the next destination hip hop preservation? 

Theodore Unit on an ill ass invasion 

Kid Crooklyn style, Premo production 

The greatest men walking, fuck all them their assumptions 

Yo, call me the king, the presence of greatness 

Often imitated, but you can't duplicate this 

[Interlude: Trife Da God] 

Haha, no, next up, the man who needs no introduction 

Muthafuckin' New York's Backbone, take it home 

[Trife Da God] 

Aiyo, I roll like a bat out of hell, something swell 

With the money green Balley's and the chunky gazelle's 

I'm an explorer like Dora, nigga, check out my aura 

On the block, I assist quarters, but I'm really a scorer 

Place your order, place your bets, I'll erase your set 

Puncture your lung and inflate your chest 

I keep killas on mountain tops, plotting on housing cops 

While I'm in the spot, bagging up rocks, I'm counting knots 

I got the eye of an eagle, ride for my people 

These bars of life dope, and I supply you that diesel 

I'm a needle in the haystack, laid back in Maybach 

Slay phat, cuz he spray gats, try to escape that 

Gray slacks for, all my Compton killas 

Casket fillers, armed gorillas, who bomb for skrilla 

Staten Island's most wanted, the backbone of the city 

The rapper killings, niggas get slapped silly, you feel me?