[Intro]
Two guns up n***a
And a vest n***a, Big Fonz comin at you n***a
Think you a gangsta n***a? I eat you boy
Spit you out and throw you back up n***a
Quick turn the lights out 'fore you get your dreams smashed

[Styles P]
Let's go Poobs
S.P. the gunfire is rapid
And I don't talk on the phone just in case that the feds tap it
Fuck with me, you a lame, it's plain the game backwards
I'ma put your brain where your front doormat is
With the pump or the 9-M-M
P harder than jail and your time ain't end
Yeah, it's the Ghost motherfucker
Cop P's off a block close to Post motherfucker
And I went to Broadway for coke motherfucker
And the block close to Preston for the dope motherfucker
And I can name spots that I robbed, work I put in
Case you thought that I was not on the job
Damn, you frontin for who n***a?
Big Mike, Green Lan', Kay Slay or the Clue n***a
Fuck it keep frontin cause the fans gon' believe you n***a
'Til a real n***a catch you then he leave you n***a
Me I'm in the streets of New York, me and my gun
Run up on P I'll shoot your shoes off
Frontin n***a, pull your Coupe off
Ice your watch out, floss stacks when they pullin them dice out
Matter fact pop Crist', tell that bitch what your life 'bout
Invite her to the studio to see what you write 'bout
Sheeit, but I'll be comin round the corner n***a
Two guns up, you a motherfuckin goner n***a
Shit, I'ma show you how to wrong a n***a
Write a n***a swish on his face, straight Nike a n***a
Shit goin down when, P don't like a n***a
You ain't really hard, you just fuckin actin hyper n***a
What?
(Yeah Poobs)
The Ghost, I'm there n***a
Time is money comin soon, feel what I'm tryin to do