Be Easy (Album Version)

Be Easy (Album Version)

Ghostface Killah

Yeah, what's happening New York City?
It's ya boy Ghost in the muthafuckin' house tonight
("Don't fuck with Ghost, you'll feel sorry")
Nah what I mean? We about to get it popping, let's go!
Yo! Yo!

[Chorus]
Tell your crew to be easy, niggas run around
With them fake frowns, sell 'em on eBay
Get word to the DJ, tell 'em Staten Island's
In the house, put the record on replay

Get your nose blowned off by the fifth, uh
You wanna be there, layin' all stiff, uh
Every time you go uptown, you get jipped, uh
That's karma, boy, running your lip, uh
You be fronting like you got a bunch of chicks, uh
You be at home, nigga, beating your dick, uh
I'm in the club with the chipped up wrist, uh
You at the bar, whoadie, drinkin' my piss, uh
The yellow shit, and the bottle ain't Crys', son
You turned your motherfuckin' head, nigga, we switched 'em
You just mad cause I'm hittin' your sister
You in the other room, huh, you couldn't sleep, uh
Pop a lotta shit without that liquor, yup
We mind seat up, so take our picture
I'm like the boogeyman, nigga, I'll get ya
Whether now or later, afterlife, or switcher

Yeah, oh shit, aiyo Tone hurry up and get 'em, nigga
You know what I mean, it's about to pop off!
Y'all niggas clear the fucking floor
Get the fuck out the way, come on!

[Chorus]

Yo, it's Tone in the building (the teams in the building)
Niggas wanna beef {what up, what up, what up}
We packed to the ceiling (we constantly chilling)
We can cause {we could, we shoot, we slice, we cut}

Shimmy shimmy ya, shimmy yam, shimmy yea, now
Yes, my birthday, landed in nay, now
Peace to Dirt Dog, I'm back like deja vu
Leave your girl around me, I will bag your boo
Ah, you bitch niggas better listen up
Anybody front, paramedics gonna pick 'em up
They try to save you, swear to God, I hit the nurse up
Like "Nah, doc, he look better in a hearse truck"
I tried to ignore it, his people saw it
I ain't the type of dude you go to war with
My polo gun yo, will crack the floor shit
When the heat's on, you know I draw it
I had his number down, Toney just called it

Yo, aiyo, Pete Rock, good looking nigga!
Staten Island, yo Theodore! What's the deal
Slap me one of the ratchets, I'm about to go in! Yo!

[Chorus]

Gotta get that cheese, gotta pimp that V
Gotta burn those leaves, and uh
Pretty Tone make the girls say please
Daddy work that d, put it in and be eas' and uh
So what, come on, now some of y'all people
Might know me from my wallabies
Pretty bitches got my number, y'all can dial me
I stick it up like an iced cake robbery
And when I'm done, y'all can finger nail file me
Floss the ill robes since Criminology
Supreme Clientele, put the world on top of me
Yo babe, hurry up, with those collard greens
I represent S.I., ain't as wild as me
They lousy, I'm phat like a pound of cheeba weed brownies
Tone got the powder squeeze, don't surround me
Quick to pick a honey up, shit, the flow's Bounty
Y'all can just crown me!

Yeah, that's right
I like to thank y'all for coming out tonight
How y'all like that shit? You know what I mean?
You really run New York
This is that Theodore shit, motherfucker!

Written by KEY, WILLIAM RYAN / MOSELY, PETER MICHAEL / PARSONS, LONGINEU WARREN III / WELLMAN-MACKIN, SEAN MICHAEL
Published by Universal Music Publishing Group

Lyrics Provided By LyricFind Inc.

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