[Verse 1 - Ghostface Killah]
 I don’t touch that swine
 I want that unnecessary beef
 You smoke garbage buds
 We smoke tons of keef
 Fishing, looking for that big-mouth bass
 And flashing, jack your whole stash
 In fashion, keep my goons lined
 In an orderly fashion
 It’s glossy with 500 horsies in the Benz
 Tinted out to spend the night
 You ain’t got angel funds is low, stack
 Your [bad word] been ho-jacked
 Still scoop her up, bring her home
 And blow that, cause Ghost be mostly
 Looking pretty toasty
 Front row at Mayweather vs. Mosley
 With a Bin Laden bottle
 Brazillian model
 Got the paparazzi jumping
 Like they hit the Lotto
 Party hard, like I”m fresh
 Out of the cages
 I rages like Charlie Sheen out in Vegas

[Verse 2]
 You drop your pants at your ankles
 At the urinal at a ballgame
 I’m on the stool getting brain
 From a tall dame, cause I’m 5’8”
 Shorty like 6’2”
 Feed her coke, locked jaw
 Like a pitbull. I was born to rep
 You [bad word] with a hornet’s nest
 Old shooters in the corner like hornacek
 Young boys that be handling the rock
 Chris Paul dish off, hammer in the sock
 Gold flakes in the Gold Schlager
 The ammo green XJ12, you know the old Jaguar
 Got the burch wood lacing the interior
 Poppy bagels getting flavored out in Syria
 Only the Fonz, best laced plates
 Cheese that reach maturity, [bad word] sucks from Shannon Doherty
 Take your temperature anally and orally
 Make a batch of home drizzle royally with oil

[Verse 3 - Termanology]
 Hopping out the Rolly Royce
 Rolls Gold nouveau
 Diamond-studded shoes, so
 Flyest [bad word] you know
 Puerto Rican version of Scarface
 [bad word] with the God’s say
 Disrespect, [bad word] in your broad’s face
 Chains stay chunky like Oprah’s belly
 Got the purple and the brown:
 Peanut butter and jelly
 When I step up in the spot with the rock
 You’ll see the popular pop rappers
 Go in their pocket and pull out their wallet
 When I click-clack, now get up on the ground
 Cause I Onyx, Pete Rock, Chuck shut em down
 You know Term, I’m the kid with the ‘preme beats
 Butter Pecan J Lo, kid with the mean cheeks
 Boobies on my gold fronts, iced out note book
 Making volcanos in the kitchen when the coke cook
 I rode around with all kinds of thugs
 High on [bad word]  [bad word] out tiger blood