Styles P - Ghost Thing lyrics

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Styles P - Ghost Thing lyrics

[Verse 1: Styles P] What would you die for, n***a, what you alive for? You ain't got ideas, then what are you gettin' high for? You ain't got a nest egg; what are you gettin' fly for? Red rum when the lead come Shot hit your knot, and they watch when your head spun s**er n***as tell when the feds come All I know is I get bread; paint a Benz plum, Dodge peach Spar with the devil, I need a God's reach Yeah, I lost that one He touch me, or I bleed, I'mma off that one I got the DuPont, starin' at the Porsche that come I'm in the Yukon; I don't mean the truck, I mean the mountains Meetin' with an account You know I smoke an ounce while I'm countin' Buck-forty navigation routin' f** the police; bricks is in the Navigator bouncin' Slide down the I-9, five on the crime side You ain't see that big shipment; you on the blindside You ain't see that six dippin'; we make time fly Still see them big bags of money in my hindsight Tear your body up; get your mind right Blade on your head, like I'm comin' to get your line right Now up in the 'hood, them give me five mics Twenty-one gun salute, nod on my fly Nikes It's the world renowned stoner Tell ya girl throw the car in the shop, get the loaner Throw bricks in the sh**, make her whip it to Daytona Swag surf the b**h, yeah I'm throwin' my waves on her Snapback from Atlanta, I'm throwin' the Braves on her She already mulin', we throwin' them K's on her I ain't sh**, but you soft like toilet paper You don't want that home invasion work from the coordinator And the n***a to act it out You just rap about the guns, my n***a, I back 'em out Ghost

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