Styles P
Ghost Thing
[Verse 1: Styles P]
What would you die for, n***a, what you alive for?
You ain't got ideas, then what are you gettin' high for?
You ain't got a nest egg; what are you gettin' fly for?
Red rum when the lead come
Shot hit your knot, and they watch when your head spun
Sucker n***as tell when the feds come
All I know is I get bread; paint a Benz plum, Dodge peach
Spar with the devil, I need a God's reach
Yeah, I lost that one
He touch me, or I bleed, I'mma off that one
I got the DuPont, starin' at the Porsche that come
I'm in the Yukon; I don't mean the truck, I mean the mountains
Meetin' with an account
You know I smoke an ounce while I'm countin'
Buck-forty navigation routin'
Fuck the police; bricks is in the Navigator bouncin'
Slide down the I-9, five on the crime side
You ain't see that big shipment; you on the blindside
You ain't see that six dippin'; we make time fly
Still see them big bags of money in my hindsight
Tear your body up; get your mind right
Blade on your head, like I'm comin' to get your line right
Now up in the 'hood, them give me five mics
Twenty-one gun salute, nod on my fly Nikes
It's the world renowned stoner
Tell ya girl throw the car in the shop, get the loaner
Throw bricks in the shit, make her whip it to Daytona
Swag surf the bitch, yeah I'm throwin' my waves on her
Snapback from Atlanta, I'm throwin' the Braves on her
She already mulin', we throwin' them K's on her
I ain't shit, but you soft like toilet paper
You don't want that home invasion work from the coordinator
And the n***a to act it out
You just rap about the guns, my n***a, I back 'em out
Ghost