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Ghostface Killah - Stroke Of Death Lyrics



Ghostface Killah - Stroke Of Death Lyrics
Official




Yeah, Solomon marked for life, a million to life
Thug for life, forever eyein' the kid
'89 stick-up kid, King of New York
Regulation party, daddy hard body
Rowdy Brighton God-body
Smooth like a leather bop, '83 hip-hop
Top of the world, get it rizzight
Dick to your wizzife, murder cats for the right prizzice
Four-hundred and fifty-six on the dizzice
This is real lizzife, ain't nothin' sweet God
Sit down and think it through God, God
'Cause comin' all outta ya face'll get ya clap God

(You are now listening to the sounds of Supreme Clientele)

Step in to the party, it's me
God Almighty, Ghost still holdin' that shotty
Dust and Alize', three-quarter Timbs
Terry-cloth robes, crisp hundreds in the envelope
Dookied on the globe, thank God for my Wallabee shoes
They done saved me, up three-nothin' and Salt Lake City
Burgundy minks, whips with sinks in 'em
Brocolli blown, illa disease breathe, elephant skin
Meet the black Boy George, dusted on my honeymoon
Bitch like my wife, she popped my Ghostface balloon
Bitches think that I'm Dominican, slaf-hash Indian
Milk on my mustache, drop to my chiny-chin
Dive into dangerous parts, buildin' with thirsty mammals
White man scream, "Swim Starks sharks!"

Smack the jail bails bondsman strength of eighteen bronze men
Tall like Karl Malone "Mailman", frame of Larry Johnson
Tony Montana blow, creamy white Havana Joe's
Old Susanna ho, pussy sweet, banana flow
David Banner, gamma ray shots, beast will marinate
Bones splittin' fatal Wu sword style, amputate
Duck Savanna wait, we splashed the glass, ice rocks
Our cash high price stock, our logo's on your rice box
Plus your dice box, on the side upon your white socks
Bobby got the mic cocked, buck buck, nice shot
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

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We currently do not have these lyrics. If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.




Yeah, Solomon marked for life, a million to life
Thug for life, forever eyein' the kid
'89 stick-up kid, King of New York
Regulation party, daddy hard body
Rowdy Brighton God-body
Smooth like a leather bop, '83 hip-hop
Top of the world, get it rizzight
Dick to your wizzife, murder cats for the right prizzice
Four-hundred and fifty-six on the dizzice
This is real lizzife, ain't nothin' sweet God
Sit down and think it through God, God
'Cause comin' all outta ya face'll get ya clap God

(You are now listening to the sounds of Supreme Clientele)

Step in to the party, it's me
God Almighty, Ghost still holdin' that shotty
Dust and Alize', three-quarter Timbs
Terry-cloth robes, crisp hundreds in the envelope
Dookied on the globe, thank God for my Wallabee shoes
They done saved me, up three-nothin' and Salt Lake City
Burgundy minks, whips with sinks in 'em
Brocolli blown, illa disease breathe, elephant skin
Meet the black Boy George, dusted on my honeymoon
Bitch like my wife, she popped my Ghostface balloon
Bitches think that I'm Dominican, slaf-hash Indian
Milk on my mustache, drop to my chiny-chin
Dive into dangerous parts, buildin' with thirsty mammals
White man scream, "Swim Starks sharks!"

Smack the jail bails bondsman strength of eighteen bronze men
Tall like Karl Malone "Mailman", frame of Larry Johnson
Tony Montana blow, creamy white Havana Joe's
Old Susanna ho, pussy sweet, banana flow
David Banner, gamma ray shots, beast will marinate
Bones splittin' fatal Wu sword style, amputate
Duck Savanna wait, we splashed the glass, ice rocks
Our cash high price stock, our logo's on your rice box
Plus your dice box, on the side upon your white socks
Bobby got the mic cocked, buck buck, nice shot
[ Correct these Lyrics ]
Writer: Dennis David Coles, Robert F. Diggs
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Spirit Music Group




Ghostface Killah - Stroke Of Death Video
(Show video at the top of the page)


Performed By: Ghostface Killah
Language: English
Length: 1:56
Written by: Dennis David Coles, Robert F. Diggs

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