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pair of hammers - ghostface killah & method man lyrics

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[intro: ghostface k!llah]
ayo
i said “ayo”!
ayo, tical, he at the rap devil acp awards
give us our f*ckin’ trophy
we takin’ everything (wu*tang)

[chorus: ghostface k!llah & method man]
throw n*ggas in comas and make vegetables, training day
i get you dusted like no respect for you
plus, i got more glocks and tecs than you
i make it hot, even your momma won’t stand next to you

[verse 1: ghostface k!llah]
ayo, ayo, who the f*ck is this?
hittin’ me at 5:46 in the morning? pullin’ on my hive
i let the k!lla beez swarm in
the way i play the corner similar to josh norman
i could murk your doorman
i could make a movie, two k!llers and the chauffeur
ear to ear, buck 50s have you smilin’ like the joker
from the lynches and submissions, thе liners and the henchmеn
put these n*ggas on spin ’cause the machine, it had to rinse ’em

[verse 2: method man]
wu*tang is for the children, thanksgiving is for the pilgrims (uh)
my thumb’s for countin’ ones, but this middle is for your feelings
what the blood clot? i’m illin’, pop stars not civilians
sick of y’all, not to mention it’s shots, amoxicillin
me and ghostface k!llah, mol*ova face, it’s written
tell a bo*faced liar about face, and drill ’em, like
they dean cane, get ’em, i hit ’em with gutter flows
then keep ’em on they toes just for kicks, like “what are those?”
[verse 3: ghostface k!llah & method man]
yeah, uh, and i’ma tell you this:
me and johnny blaze’ll skin you n*ggas like fish
it comes to murder, i insist
operatin’ tables quietly, they tried to stitch
this ’bout a b*tch? (this ’bout a b*tch?)
they cut the mollies out a ditch
two*tone tastles, red wally’s with the grips
sixteen minutes, told ’em press, we like the saudis of this sh*t
and i was dead wrong, i f*cked the body off this chick
left her bones on the bed, her head was wobbly as a b*tch

[verse 4: method man]
i tell her “la*di*da*di” like i’m rick
we jammin’ in the party, bob marley with the spliff
black bugatti with the shift
look at johnny (aah), i’m blazin’, got an army, not a clique
wu*wear laundry, sometime it say armani ’cause i’m rich (rich)
flow tsunami, i’m schemin’ like a saudi with a brick
rappers envy, but claim it was a ponsy when they slip
i get the thumbs up like fonzy ’cause i’m lit (’cause i’m lit)
new york islanders, we finna hit somebody with the stick

[chorus: ghostface k!llah & method man]
throw n*ggas in comas and make vegetables, training day
i get you dusted like no respect for you
plus, i got more glocks and tecs than you
i make it hot, even your momma won’t stand next to you
[verse 5: ghostface k!llah]
ayo, you feel me? it’s more and more n*ggas tryna k!ll me
jewellery too heavy, diamonds too milky
the way i shoot the gift it’s like my slime is too silky
my mouth caught a body on camera, my tongue guilty

[verse 6: method man]
my mouth talk dirty with grammar, my tongue filthy
my arms come with armor, by baby momma’s a milfy
and drama is the karma i get for somethin’ that k!lled me (yeah)
and still might, steal on a rapper because i’m still me

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