Lyrics The Dogs of War (Instrumental) - Ghostface Killah
Just
keep
away
(just
keep
away
Go
on,
it's
not
your
fight!)
It's
not
yours
nigga,
fall
back
I'm
about
to
blow
something
out
here
Straight
up,
yeah,
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
talk
Four
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
wallet
Yo,
I'm
talking
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
chuck
The
streets
don't
know
my
peeps
Jumpin'
out
of
UPS
trucks,
blowing
niggaz
off
they
feet
With
four-four
gloves,
rims
spinning,
tippin'
on
fo-fo's
My
mouth
be
worth
millions,
something
like
Paul
Wall's
Ladies
look
out;
they
ain't
thugs,
they
homo's
The
film
look
hyper,
when
I
clap
'em
in
slo
mo'
Ya'll
still
paying
the
mob?
We
whip
niggaz
out
like
waffle
batter
Theodore
ancient
with
dart,
flossin'
them
diamonds
Discussing
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,
til
the
condom
pop
On
the
low,
we
still
fucking
them
cops
Pretty
things
from
all
precints,
friday
nights,
we
holding
they
glocks
This
is
family,
nigga,
niggaz
can't
stand
me
Next
up,
my
little
man,
I
hand
you
the
jammy
You
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
wig
I'm
like
"Damn,
what
a
wonderful
kid"
I
could
do
what
I
want,
doing
dirt,
not
serving
a
bid
You
know
a
real
fam
handle
they
biz,
everybody
get
searched
From
the
grandpops,
down
to
the
kids
And
my
time,
I'm
officially
here,
tell
ya
man
Go
and
start
up
ya
car,
start
shifting
the
gears
Sun
God
got
the
pits
for
his
hairs,
cuz
niggaz
is
scared
Hoping
I
don't
let
it
blow
in
they
ribs
I
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
targets
Juks
everything,
dice
games,
mini
markets
Fam
gon'
spark
it,
I'mma
take
whatever's
in
the
pockets
Mostly
the
cash
and
the
wallet,
slide
off
the
jewels
Cuz
you
shining,
begets
and
the
diamonds
Never
deny
niggaz
with
iron...
YO!
Aiyo,
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
hoods
Get
the
paper,
word
to
everything,
we
a
acre
up
Barbequin'
like
a
mutt,
we
ain't
taking
nothing
A
high
tech
extremist,
Gatorade,
paid
ya
boy
some
money
To
lay
up
on
the
low,
swinging
beamers
I
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
choppers
What?
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
quick
Aiyo,
we
hug
the
block
on
President's
Day
Swinging
all
year
round,
gettin'
that
money
the
American
way
Might
run
up
in
yo
wedding,
grab
the
reverand
and
spray
And
let
the
shots
for
whatever
they
may
This
is
family,
nigga,
minus
the
mob
size
The
resurrection
of
Toney
Starks
& Trife
Dies',
starring
in
Niggaz'll
rather
die
when
they're
pride's
in
question
Try'nna
play
hero,
getting
stuck
for
they
prized
possessions
Look
you
staring
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
thru
ya
stomach
like
acid
reflux
Get
buried
in
ya
cheap
tux'
We
make
it
hard
for
you
niggaz
to
keep
up
Been
thru
a
hundred
towns,
and
running,
beating
the
streets
up
Come
up
north
in
New
York,
down
in
Miami,
pumping
At
a
table,
breaking
bread
like
a
family
Florida,
where
we
follow
the
code
of
the
streets
and
Breaking
the
beats
and,
we
taking
the
eats
Never
the
least,
we
invading
the
streets
Shaking
the
beast,
we
familiar
for
life
We
don't
run,
we
grab
knives,
my
double
edged
spit
life
My
dogs
is
real
tight,
shooting
the
dice
Some
of
my
fam
might
snatch
ya
ice
Got
family
that
go
to
church,
come
back
like
you
don't
work
Got
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
up
Chop
you
up,
put
your
body
in
the
back
of
the
truck
Osama
Island,
we
been
wilding,
see
the
violence
We
display
talent,
respect
balance,
nigga,
Shaolin
1 Emergency Procedure
2 The Battlefield
3 The Battlefield
4 Love Don't Live Here No More
5 Here I Go Again
6 Loyalty
7 It’s a Thin Line Between Love and Hate
8 The Dogs of War
9 Double Cross
10 Pieces to the Puzzle
11 Homicide
12 Blood in the Streets
13 Call My Name
14 The Battlefield (Instrumental)
15 Love Don't Live Here No More (Instrumental)
16 Here I Go Again (Instrumental)
17 Loyalty (instrumental)
18 The Dogs of War (Instrumental)
19 Emergency Procedure (Instrumental)
20 Double Cross (Instrumental)
21 Pieces to the Puzzle (Instrumental)
22 Homicide (Instrumental)
23 Blood in the Streets (Instrumental)
24 Call My Name (Instrumental)
Attention! Feel free to leave feedback.