We have 22 versions of the Ghostface Killah song Apollo Kids
Since the release of the Wu-Tang debut, ENTER THE 36 CHAMBERS, Wu-lovers have been treated to a series of solo efforts from individual Clan member.... See Full Description
Ghostface Killah Apollo Kids Lyrics Supreme Clientele Track List Click on a song to view its lyrics
[Ghostface] Uh-huh, uh-huh, motherfucker, uh-huh Yeah, I see that, I see that All y'all fake motherfuckers up in the joint, huh? Stealing my light, huh? Watch me, duke, watch me
Yo, check these up top murderous Snowy in the bezzle as the cloud merges F.B.I. try and want word with this Kid who punked out bust a shot up in the beacon Catch me in the corner not speaking Crushed out heavenly, U.G. rock the sweet daddy long fox minks Chicken and broccoli, Wally's look stinky With his man straight from Raleigh Durham, he recognized Kojak I slapped him five, Masta Killa cracked his tiny form Everybody break bread, huddle around Guzzle that, I'm about to throw a hand in your bag Since the face been revealed, game got real Radio been gassing niggas, my impostors scream they ill I'm the inventor, '86 rhyming at the center Debut '93 LP told you to Enter Punk fagot niggas stealing my light Crawl up in the bed with grandma, beneath the La-Z-Boy where ya hid ya knife Ghost is back, stretch Cadillac's, fruit cocktails Hit the shells at Paul's Pastry Rack Walk with me like Darthy tried to judge these plush degrees, said the cow, wrap the fees Getting waxed all through the drive-through Take the stand, throw my hand all on the Bible and tell lies too, I'm the ultimate splash the Wolverine Razor Sharp ring, dolomite student in role holding it
[Chorus: Ghostface] Hey yo, this rappin's like Ziti, facin me real TV Crash at high-speeds, strawberry, kiwi As we approach, yo herb, the Gods bail These Staten Island ferryboat cats bail Fresh cellies, 50 thief up in the city We banned for life, Apollo kids live to spit the real
[Ghostface] A pair of bright phat yellow Air Max Hit the racks, stack 'em up Son, $20 off no tax Street merchant tucked in the cloud, stay splurging Rock a eagle head, 6-inch height was the bird Monday night Dallas verse Jets, dudes slid in with one hand Two culture-ciphers, one bag of wet Heavy rain fucked my kicks up Wasn't looking, splashed in the puddle Bitch laughing, first thought was beat the bitch up Mossied off gracefully, New York's most wanted tee-ball hawk Seen the yellow brick road, lust of pastries Same Ghostface, holy in the mind Last scene, Manhattan Chase We drew the six-eight digit in the briefcase Rawness, title is Hell-bound Quick to reload around faces, surround look astound
[Raekwon] We split a fair one, poker nose money Gin rummy with glare, spot the lame, bit his ear Yo, you taste a tea-spoon, 300 goons, stash balloons Locked in lab rooms, hit with glock, stashed in Grant's Tomb Clocked him like a patient, his stock's full, hustle invasion Knowing now, we cocked a block ...
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