wisdom body
No man all bitches are the same, just like my hoes, you know
I keep em broke, wake up one morning with some money
They're subject to go crazy you know?
I keep em lookin good, pretty and all that, you know, but no dough
When I get a bitch, I got a bitch (right on)
Word up
Got motherfucking brother wise
You know what I'm saying? Teaching the uncivilized
Yeah, runnin the streets, you know it's deep
Word up, check his technique, yeah
I be Ghostface, flippin the marvelous track
Yeah, you know the steelo, but yo, yo
Check the banging-est sounds that I invent
Fake niggas who tried to flex hard came and went
They couldn't match up with the fly nigga with his back against the wall
Heads clocked once I came in the door
I played the speaker, sipping a Kahlua
Saw this bad bitch wit a switch and yo, I had to step to her
In a manner, and rather wished the current was warm
When I had reached her, I looked and knew the shit was on
Peace, excuse me, allow to introduce myself
Yo, I'm the man, and honey, you've been rated top shelf
Yo, what's your name hon, hair wrapped up in a bun
Your eyes sparkle, just like glass in the sun
Never diss 'em, it's hard for a nigga just to miss 'em
Especially, when you're browsing, going fishing
Your waistline, banging like a bassline
Physical form is well complex
And yo, I love your outline, boo
Your whole body is wild, with your rugged profile
Enough to make a hard rock smile
You can't strike out, tell me what can really go wrong
You're rocking labels - Tommy Hil, down to Claiborne
Show me some love hon, show me some love boo
Show me the vibe and I'll be more than glad to shoot it through
A-yo peep it, I know you love Victoria's Secret
And loving all the marvelous slang on how I freaked it
Plus, see you're the type to make a nigga crash
Far from trash, your flesh is way softer than a baby's ass
Your body lotion is the potion
The shit got me open like dust and yo, your stee is Thai potent, yo
We can go the distance, I put you under wings
From this convo we can spark and see whatever brings
I walked the hot Arabian desert, barefooted
I grabbed your hair
You grabbed my joint and knew where to put it
Word up, yo, straight up and down yo
Check the joint, baby
It be the Wu-Tang production
Yeah, yeah, and all types of shit, and brothers catching repercussions
Yo, straight up