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作词 : Dennis Coles/Shawn Wigs/Dennis Ames
作曲 : Danny Caiazzo
Let's go, baby, let's go
Verse 1/Ghostface Killah: Yo, Big paper, skyscrapers
The black Jerry Buss, I can buy the Lakers
Fly everything
Stand on the Bentley and toast to stones in every ring
Forty helicopters with choppers, back to Medellín
Undercover task force reveals
They get chills when on the heels of a killa
Way iller with his mask off
Three stooge of these n1ggas
Leave 'em in the dust on the crash course
I don't even ask for the pxssy, wizzes pass off
Cinco de Mayo, I'm into the bayou, one hell of a bio
I live that life you can stuff in the vial
Black 590 Mossberg'll knock off your smile
Tony wrist game water like it was dipped in the Nile
Forty-inch cable is fatal (Uh-huh), I need a neck brace
The gold I wore'll weigh more than your table
Jameson bags of scotch, the red dot on the label
If Chi-Town is Chiraq, Staten Island is Beirut
Chorus: Shawn Wigs & Sun God
All we want is the dead presidents, take measurements
You follow the old, we makin' new testaments
Supreme specimens, Wu-Tang regiments
Watch your mouth when you speakin' to excellence
Verse 2/Sun God: Yo
I probably left a couple scenes
but that's only through back exits
Mommy cryin', homie died, couldn't make it past eleven
Twenty-one, twenty gun salute, bring him back in seconds
Off that juice, hang 'em off the roof how n1ggas send a message
We be wildin', keep the toolie on us case you wanna check us
Off the line and get your homie clapped just for sending texts
Every spot Mr. JJ Watt, known to get them Texans
Quiet down, everybody now, God gon' send a message
In my country for what you worth, but you ain't life threatenin'
You ain't running, just drag your feet
'cause you ain't light stepping
Send 'em all to come dim your lights
you gon' need a light expection
Just give 'em a couple shots
we gon' give 'em light injections
I'm cleaning these n1ggas messes
but soon as I switched my groove
Got out and moved, these n1ggas became the death wish
N1ggas became reckless, young, black and flexin'
N1gga (Young, black and flexin')
Chorus: Shawn Wigs
All we want is the dead presidents, take measurements
You follow the old, we makin' new testaments
Supreme specimens, Wu-Tang regiments
Watch your mouth when you speakin' to excellence
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