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Dogs of War - Ghostface Killah



     
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Dogs of War Lyrics


Just keep away
Go on, it's not your fight
It's not yours nigga, fall back
I'm about to blow somethin' out here, straight upYeah, this is a family thing
We gon' handle our business and shit
These muthafuckas know not to come around here like that
This is real shit, real talkFour different niggaz with four different aspects, nigga
This is family shit
Who the fuck said family ain't family no more, nigga?
This is tight shit, tighter than white in ya walletYo, I'm talkin' bags of heavy coke, bracelets on every men
Innocent dope pushers, over night king pins
Indeed, we smack niggaz up for their cheese
Throw bleach in yo face, got beef, let it be chuckThe streets don't know my peeps
Jumpin' out of UPS trucks, blowin' niggaz off they feet
With four-four gloves, rims spinnin', tippin' on fo-fo's
My mouth be worth millions, somethin' like Paul Wall'sLadies look out they ain't thugs, they homo's
The film look hyper when I clap 'em in slo mo'
Ya'll still payin' the mob? We whip niggaz out like waffle batter

Theodore ancient with dart, flossin' them diamondsDiscussin' our hits over a glass of scotch
Baywatch bitches that ski, take turns when they hand us the twat
Think not, we still run the trains, till the condom pop
On the low, we still fuckin' them copsPretty things from all precincts, Friday nights
We holdin' they glocks
This is family, nigga, niggaz can't stand me
Next up, my little man, I hand you the jammyYou know the fam, what it is, it is what it is
S.I.N.Y., where the animals live
Ass bet, niggaz run in yo cribs
I don't care if you blast for the cash, then scramble yo wigI'm like, "Damn, what a wonderful kid"
I could do what I want, doin' dirt, not servin' a bid
You know a real fam handle they biz, everybody get searched
From the grandpops, down to the kidsAnd my time, I'm officially here, tell ya man
Go and start up ya car, start shiftin' the gears
Sun God got the pits for his hairs 'cuz niggaz is scared
Hopin' I don't let it blow in they ribsI said hot, niggaz get robbed non stop
Once the gun cock, niggaz strip down to they socks
And my fam at the tippity top, I won't stop
Believe it or not, you and ya man is close targetsJuks everythin', dice games, mini markets
Fam gon' spark it, I'ma take whatever is in the pockets
Mostly the cash and the wallet, slide off the jewels
'Cuz you shinin', begets and the diamonds
Never deny niggaz with iron, yoAiyo, chillin' with the Ceasar crew
We can smoke, all in the halls
It's how many niggaz with guns, got 'em on
All tip top, cling to the fullest, mad bullets
This is a hobby, the lobby where they clap yo hoodsGet the paper, word to everythin', we a acre up
Barbequin' like a mutt, we ain't taking nothin'
A high tech extremist, Gatorade, paid ya boy some money
To lay up on the low, swinging beamersI need to be an actor,but instead, I'd rather be in Hempstead
All of my bread came from crack barbers and shoppers
So much beef in these whoppers
Guns that'll knock out floors and hit choppersWhat? What? The family remains 'cuz it's grain
It's automatic, I live it and I claim it
It's real, come around here, you bought here
Yo, lay that half tape, then you will get wrapped real quickAiyo, we hug the block on President's Day
Swingin' all year round, gettin' that money the American way
Might run up in yo weddin', grab the reverend and spray
And let the shots for whatever they mayThis is family, nigga, minus the mob size
The resurrection of Toney Starks and Trife Dies', starrin' in Part 5
Niggaz'll rather die when they're pride's in question
Try'na play hero, getting stuck for they prized possessionsLook you starin' in the eyes of oppression
That's why I ride with protection extended clips
Super sizing my weapons, five eleven, keep the heat tucked
That'll burn a hole through ya stomach like acid reflux
Get buried in ya cheap tux'We make it hard for you niggaz to keep up
Been through a hundred towns,and runnin', beatin' the streets up
Come up north in New York, down in Miami, pumpin'
At a table, breakin' bread like a familyFlorida, where we follow the code of the streets
And breakin' the beats and we takin' the east
Never the least, we invadin' the streets
Shakin' the beast, we familiar for lifeWe don't run, we grab knives, my double edged spit life
My dogs is real tight, shootin' the dice
Some of my fam might snatch ya ice
Got family that go to church, come back like you don't workGot family that'll set you up, got family that chill
Wanna spark the dutch
Wizard my fam, that stuck you up
I got fam that'll fuck you upChop you up, put your body in the back of the truck
Osama Island, we been wildin', see the violence
We display talent, respect balance, nigga, Shaolin
It's a family

Enjoy the lyrics !!!
Dennis Coles (born May 9, 1970), better known by his stage name Ghostface Killah, is an American rapper and member of the Wu-Tang Clan. After the group achieved breakthrough success with their 1993 debut, Enter the Wu-Tang (36 Chambers) , the members went on to pursue solo careers to varying levels of success. Ghostface Killah debuted his solo-career in 1996 with Ironman, which was well received by music critics. He would continue his career, creating additional award-winning albums over the following years such as Supreme Clientele, Fishscale, More Fish, and The Big Doe Rehab.

Ghostface Killah is critically acclaimed for his loud, fast-paced flow, and his stream-of-consciousness narratives containing cryptic slang and non-sequiturs.

Ghostface Killah was raised in the Stapleton housing projects in Staten Island, New York. In his autobiographical song "All That I Got Is You", Ghost tells the story of his childhood. He raps about how he grew up in a three bedroom apartment without his father, who left him at the age of six. Apparently, his mother had nine children.

His stage name was taken from one of the characters in the 1979 kung fu film Mystery of Chessboxing.
He was also a close friend of the three founding members of Wu-tang clan

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Ghostface Killah