"Troublemakers" lyrics - GHOSTFACE KILLAH

GHOSTFACE KILLAH
"Troublemakers"
(D. Coles / J. Dutton / C. Smith)

[Intro: Raekwon]
Forreal? Can I get a juice, lord?
Yeah, yeah... yeah, squad niggas boy, forreal
Uh-huh, forreal, man, word, open the door, man
Hustle flow shit, yeah, aiyo, pass the cigar, lord
Come on, man, stop playing, man

[Verse 1: Raekwon]
We in the cabin playing backgammon, gorilla monster slammers
Brothers hire us, try us you gon' die, son
Green medicine, blow veterans
Run in Adidas store, six more velours, drawers feather skin
Haircutted up, hollering, seven through three sixes
No, we ain't the devil, where ya llama, dick?
Can't stand the other side, niggas know we rich, we color guys
Loose up your mother, true lullabies
Gangsta ever readies, take off my shirt, no batteries, nigga
Just one mean magnum killer
Snowmobiles jetting out the Timber, feel Chef altitude
Yo, I can't breathe, check the splendor
Brazilian honey dip, I'm on my rifle day, nigga
Times is roughing, Timberland cuffing
One knee up, G up all the re-up
Hope we can pull it back, my throat my only weapon, blow the beat up

[Verse 2: Ghostface Killah]
Stuff Brillo pads in the rat holes, reduce that faggot ass nigga
Who wanna jump like a frog to a tadpole
Gag it up, sliding through the ER, batted up
A tube in your dick, you can't piss when standing up
Hands is shaking, doctors is taken to operating
"Nah, he might not live!" So they start debating
You in bad shape, in the neck of New York
Your slithering ways, lay with you a bad snake
Smash bake, eight stab holes in your shoulder blades
You wilding on the stretcher and shit, they trynna hold your legs
Nah don't hold his legs, tell that bitch ass nigga to chill
Put something in his meat like bolognese
Got gophers that sleep in the woods, Carhartt down
Padlock your bow-legged spot, where your rocks now?
You ain't moving no crack, you'se a moving ass rat
After you lay up in that morgue, I'mma fuck your back
Yeah, nigga, die slow with your smirk on
Night-night lights, dim it down, get your mirk on
Later I see you in hell, get your burn on
Filled with embalming fluid, get your sherm on

[Verse 3: Redman]
My sherm on in the hood when I ride by
My eyes looking like I learned how to skydive
The world is yours, there's rules you abide by
Ride with the fly guy on I-95
They said a nigga return, but I never left
I told Big L through me, he could resurrect
I'm that nigga like Puff in L-O-X
I took one L and life is still Double X
Brick City where I breathe all the trees at
The E's in M&M's, I need a Relapse
And bitches, grab my mic, give me feedback
Reggie you an asshole, baby I be that
Yeah, I get cocky when the beat pumping
You know you doing it when your tire lip running
I keep a freak and I call her chicken McNugget
'Cuz this Superbad nigga, she McLovin'

[Verse 4: Method Man]
Fiends get killed in my hallways, we parlay
My feet been killing me all day
Your boy down for lot, like them killas in RahWay
It's all work and no play, cuz this block ain't nothing like Broadway
Revenge is sweeter than sorbet, you all become believers
Once this heaters in your face, just a part of my feng shui
Ya'll don't want no part of the gun spray
I would hate to pull it and one stray
That's where the innocents by stand, we trapped inside these tenements like damn
Why mama trynna feed us this spiced ham
Connects trynna cheat us with light grams
Co-defendants try to lighten they sentence, snitching to white man
Turned state evidence, fam, we ain't jellin'
Felons ain't felons no more, they straight tellin'
Ain't nothing worse than a rat, you can't smellin'
And ain't nothing worse than a trap you can't sell in