[Chorus]
My hands stay dirty 'cause I play dirty
My hands stay dirty 'cause I play dirty
My hands stay dirty 'cause I play dirty
Termanology, Fizzy Wo, Ghost Styles P, Busta Rhymes
[Verse 1: Termanology]
It's the God I'm focused, I'm one of the hardest flowers
I open your heart with pokers and cover your car with roses
I'm one of the last poets, to science and math knowers
Combined with my clash flow, it's a crime that I'm passed over
I roll with the hardest soldiers, stay low when the don approaches
I cover your heart and roast it and wait on your mama's sofa
I shoot up your daughter's stroller, I told you my heart is polar
Unload a barrage of coker and cover up the largest boulders
I'm from the law we known as the hood where they hardly sober
The holster to carry, the toaster is always on the shoulder
I'm out for the pot of gold, if you trip, leave body frozen
And I zip up you mighty goons, in the river your body goes
Don't make use the razor to show you my fruits of labor
Not even your crew could save you, you get in the booth I slay ya
Kicked out a housing, for flipping and wilding
It's the Puerto Rican kid with the guns that look Italian
[Verse 2: Lil' Fame]
Man hand me my motherfucking strap, FALL BACK!
I'm 'bout to run up on these niggas like OG Wax
And get it popping with my weapon in palm
I am the rawest footage you ever seen since the death of Saddam COME ON!
I still do it jumbo
Still gung-ho, my flow is a ticket to the gun show
Front row, Y'ALL KNOW! I should've been out
They askin me to slim down
Tell them bitches kick rocks, big niggas is in now
Marksmen regime and I'm down for the wig out
Kids starve the fuck out, WELCOME TO THE ROUGH HOUSE!
Yellow bus status since special ed had it made
Start a mosh pit, stampede barricade
CUT TO YOU THE SAGA, the saga of the Ville
Fuck niggas heads up like the barber of the ville
MO-P to the death, still 7:30
And I keep my hands dirty, cause I play dirty, NIGGA!
[Chorus]
I'm on that old paper chase 'til the day that I blow
My hands stay dirty 'cause I play dirty
Fizzyology, my hands stay dirty 'cause I play dirty
I'm on that old paper chase 'til the day that I blow
My hands stay dirty 'cause I play dirty, hands stay dirty
Fizzyology, my hands stay dirty 'cause I play dirty (Ghost)
[Verse 3: Styles P]
Only time my gun show off is when my gun go off
Fuck around and get your tongue blown off
Get shot from point blank, lil' nigga the joint stank
Kush and cookies in a big barrel you looking in it
Room full of niggas, I figured you was the pussy in it
I was dead right, this is lead life
Raised on the block, I was trained to shoot at your head, right
Handling left handed, two guns up, no one is left standing
And I quarter back bullets like the next Manning
Or Drew Breeze, and motherfucker could you please
Come off the money, and the jewels or get your food freezed
And ate later, I look forward to my 9s like an 8th grader
Love is love, hate later (hate later)
Cause I'm busy doing Ghost shit (Ghost)
P butter, I toast shit
[Verse 4: Busta Rhymes]
Yo, when I step in the building
Niggas often display a behavior that's defensive
I ain't interested in victims, I victimize the collective
If you look from my perspective, and handling situations (BRRRR)
Eliminate every type of retaliation
Despite your imagination, and in light of being funny
I beat your bones broke with a bag of bricks full of money, WHAT?
Derek Lam mansions, many Ferarri flavors
With humans with properties, on top of mountains is my neighbors
Until the fruit basket rapping ass niggas do disappear
I'm eating with, reps from Microsoft negotiating shares
On a private plane palace drinking Starbucks in the Lear
I'm on a private plane styling getting washed up in the rear
By two twin Dominicans while the pilots rip up the throttle
They fuss a little bit about who gon' polish the nozzle
Burial, I'm on my everything I wear black shit
While I come to eat your food
All my niggas came hear to clap shit...
[Chorus]
My hands stay dirty 'cause I play dirty
Fizzyology, my hands stay dirty 'cause I play dirty
I'm on that old paper chase 'til the day that I blow
My hands stay dirty 'cause I play dirty
Fizzyology, my hands stay dirty 'cause I play dirty
My hands stay dirty 'cause I play dirty
My hands stay dirty 'cause I play dirty
My hands stay dirty 'cause I play dirty
Termanology, Fizzy Wo, Ghost Styles P, Busta Rhymes
[Verse 1: Termanology]
It's the God I'm focused, I'm one of the hardest flowers
I open your heart with pokers and cover your car with roses
I'm one of the last poets, to science and math knowers
Combined with my clash flow, it's a crime that I'm passed over
I roll with the hardest soldiers, stay low when the don approaches
I cover your heart and roast it and wait on your mama's sofa
I shoot up your daughter's stroller, I told you my heart is polar
Unload a barrage of coker and cover up the largest boulders
I'm from the law we known as the hood where they hardly sober
The holster to carry, the toaster is always on the shoulder
I'm out for the pot of gold, if you trip, leave body frozen
And I zip up you mighty goons, in the river your body goes
Don't make use the razor to show you my fruits of labor
Not even your crew could save you, you get in the booth I slay ya
Kicked out a housing, for flipping and wilding
It's the Puerto Rican kid with the guns that look Italian
[Verse 2: Lil' Fame]
Man hand me my motherfucking strap, FALL BACK!
I'm 'bout to run up on these niggas like OG Wax
And get it popping with my weapon in palm
I am the rawest footage you ever seen since the death of Saddam COME ON!
I still do it jumbo
Still gung-ho, my flow is a ticket to the gun show
Front row, Y'ALL KNOW! I should've been out
They askin me to slim down
Tell them bitches kick rocks, big niggas is in now
Marksmen regime and I'm down for the wig out
Kids starve the fuck out, WELCOME TO THE ROUGH HOUSE!
Yellow bus status since special ed had it made
Start a mosh pit, stampede barricade
CUT TO YOU THE SAGA, the saga of the Ville
Fuck niggas heads up like the barber of the ville
MO-P to the death, still 7:30
And I keep my hands dirty, cause I play dirty, NIGGA!
[Chorus]
I'm on that old paper chase 'til the day that I blow
My hands stay dirty 'cause I play dirty
Fizzyology, my hands stay dirty 'cause I play dirty
I'm on that old paper chase 'til the day that I blow
My hands stay dirty 'cause I play dirty, hands stay dirty
Fizzyology, my hands stay dirty 'cause I play dirty (Ghost)
[Verse 3: Styles P]
Only time my gun show off is when my gun go off
Fuck around and get your tongue blown off
Get shot from point blank, lil' nigga the joint stank
Kush and cookies in a big barrel you looking in it
Room full of niggas, I figured you was the pussy in it
I was dead right, this is lead life
Raised on the block, I was trained to shoot at your head, right
Handling left handed, two guns up, no one is left standing
And I quarter back bullets like the next Manning
Or Drew Breeze, and motherfucker could you please
Come off the money, and the jewels or get your food freezed
And ate later, I look forward to my 9s like an 8th grader
Love is love, hate later (hate later)
Cause I'm busy doing Ghost shit (Ghost)
P butter, I toast shit
[Verse 4: Busta Rhymes]
Yo, when I step in the building
Niggas often display a behavior that's defensive
I ain't interested in victims, I victimize the collective
If you look from my perspective, and handling situations (BRRRR)
Eliminate every type of retaliation
Despite your imagination, and in light of being funny
I beat your bones broke with a bag of bricks full of money, WHAT?
Derek Lam mansions, many Ferarri flavors
With humans with properties, on top of mountains is my neighbors
Until the fruit basket rapping ass niggas do disappear
I'm eating with, reps from Microsoft negotiating shares
On a private plane palace drinking Starbucks in the Lear
I'm on a private plane styling getting washed up in the rear
By two twin Dominicans while the pilots rip up the throttle
They fuss a little bit about who gon' polish the nozzle
Burial, I'm on my everything I wear black shit
While I come to eat your food
All my niggas came hear to clap shit...
[Chorus]
My hands stay dirty 'cause I play dirty
Fizzyology, my hands stay dirty 'cause I play dirty
I'm on that old paper chase 'til the day that I blow
My hands stay dirty 'cause I play dirty
Fizzyology, my hands stay dirty 'cause I play dirty
( Lil Fame & Termanology )
www.ChordsAZ.com