[Lyrics Ghostface Killah - We Made It] Make me wan' pop sumthin', no champagne Two-five on me, weed and crack on me Bitch motherfucker tried to get a rep' off me Leave him there, never know, get him off me I remember days when we just fucked bitches Bought a lot of clothes and, played the ave Now we rap niggas with a lot of wardrobes And if we want a nigga dead we pay the cash I ain't tryin to waste my career on y'all Even scuffle with y'all, waste gear on y'all But if I gotta go out, you know I'mma show out You gon' fuck around and get your whole back blown out I remember on the Island, can't tone out The mess hall crawler, about to zone out Dumb motherfuckers with our microphone out We just dumb motherfuckers with our microphone out See me I roll with Ghost and cats that carry they toast Make the Post, front page and, center-Stagin' When it's time to bust off them things, it ain't a game man We rocked out own diamond rings, see them 'Bling, Bling' Got big boy toys, push Sixes Dime bitches, told y'all before we import those Jury stay froze, court cases get closed Niggas hate Nino cuz how fast I rose up Like George Jefferson and em, steppin on em The headline read, Starks had the weapon on em The best, what y'all expect? He a vet Plus the best, now tell me how we gon' fail When we dealin with 'Supreme Clientele'] From Rikers Island to the Cayman Island We thugs like, life is the same challenge Do the knowledge, recognize your talent And if you live the streets, you better stay silent From Rikers Island to the Cayman Island We thugs like, life is the same challenge Do the knowledge, recognize your talent And if you live the streets, you better stay silent Yo, spotted at The Mirage, Ghostface swarmed by groupies Mingle amongst stars, I come in cat, invades Mars Highlight of the century, first bet placed upon entry Fainted when the book mentioned me Keep ballin, new systems, high sciences Drop that, Ghost listenin, track sizzlin Angelica, Judy Plum for bitches, Goines king of the century Best sellers for niggas, stay together Posted up trucks, leanin on the Benz Cinemax smile shot in thrity-five lens You program, broke bottles of Dom Seven inch bangles, back breakers I'm a dope fiend, look at my arm, Popeye strength Rap with a British accent, Gucci clothes Dennis Coles in the latest fashions Blow backs in, flip raps like fourty-eight bundles Dinner plates, deadly front gates, celeb Bryant Gumbel Analyze This shit like Deniro, words in your center earhole Blocks of ice like Sub-Zero, we been right since day zero Shatter your soul like glass windows Turn virgins to nymphos, pop these hollows at fake cats in a Tahoe Wild out, throw your liquor bottles at hood rats to the richest models We conversate like Christ and the twelve apostles Livin life without you, can't count you as great men Murderers in the state pen', bein caged in The wages of sin, before they read up they pop our tape in You ain't gotta tuck you chain in cuz here we want the head of Satan Durags and our pants hangin