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lirik lagu game time – ghostface killah

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(feat. trife da god & tommy whispers)

[intro: trife da good]
mmm-hmm… yo we going in, n-gg-

[chorus 2x: trife da god]
it’s game time, gear the lacing of your kicks
when i bang mine, ain’t no escaping out this b-tch
and your chain’s mine, kidnap the bracelet off your wrist
heard it through the grapevine, that you was hating on the click

[trife da god]
i’m not chris tuck’, but i’ll tuck them ratchets
when i was young, i used to beat off, and f-ck the mattress
and i promise you, step out of line, see what that llama do
demolish you, rip through your chest, hit your abdominal
my hammer hold twelve like a dozen of eggs
and your man’ll get bodied over something he said
i’m not a blood, but i rock nothing but red
he got his b-tton on, i heard son f-ck with the feds
why n-gg-z wanna f-ck with my bread, like i ain’t starving
when i reign, i leave n-gg-z in payne, but i ain’t martin
if i ain’t gone, i’m gonna move the weight by the carton
on the plate carving, find me out of sight like a martian
and i’m bobbing and weaving, dodging the precint
hit i-95, blowing cigars on the decon
even when i’m f-cked up, you know the god’ll be eating
it’s all good, my hood is like the garden of eden

[chorus 2x]

[tommy whispers]
we make hits, cl-ssical sh-t, spit acid
turn bodies into ashes, t.m.f., we the masters
father to your style, so you can’t be called a b-st-rd
held fast in close casket, on the verge of collapsion
demolition derby, car crashing, heart smashed in
brutaly, i beast on beats, broadstreet, staten
usually i creep black heat, in dusty clothes
then drift from rusty ‘fro’s
communicate

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