Ghostface Killah - Supreme Clientele

Saturday Nite Lyrics

by Ghostface Killah
Album: Supreme Clientele (2000)



[ghostface]
Yo..
Saturday night, uptown
Ridin past kansas fried chicken
Whats poppin kid? we in the mix
Its chilly 40 below
Gates closed gotta catch dr. js
Blowin my hand, rub on my nose
Tap the glass, stop frontin duke, fresh pair of jeans
Look I got loot, eleven in the bass boots
Heard a screech pull up, these jakes flashed me 5 pictures
One had my mans mug, semi stepped brother hugs
You asked the wrong guy son
Im from melina, yeah we know mr. coles
Flew in two days ago to see his fam
But we been watchin you, crazily
The whole staten island shittin on you
Wisdom birds pregnant out in baisley
Hold up snow in your ear, fresh baldie tried to change up
Not trunk today, still lookin fly, still slammed up hung
Your mom pop in your trunk, slow your pace
Starks fixed your face, copped out the 6, five years probat
You dealin with a lot of science, motherfucker were watchin you
Make me wanna lick shots at you
You disgust me, screwin me down, grab my gun
Go head bust me, heard you hate jake thats what it must be
Hands behind your back, spread your legs
Just found a roach in your tray
Its not mine fucker, what I said
You met the 13th nigga
A multimillion dollar operation is based upon it yo
Where in the hells the rza?
Hes sellin mics, wildest joints
Special made to go up in your hand and which went out on point
Switched to the next scene, Im at the crib buggin out
On how po live, hatin plus harassin the kid
Park the truck in the double face garage
Dial 1-900-raekwon, tell the God shits mega
Reel flashin me on bet, planet groove, rap city news
Naacp committees..


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