paroles de chanson Saturday Nite - Ghostface Killah
[Ghostface]
Yo.
Saturday
night,
Uptown
Ridin
past
Kansas
Fried
Chicken
What's
poppin
kid?
We
in
the
mix
It's
chilly
40
below
Gate's
closed
gotta
catch
Dr.
J's
Blowin
my
hand,
rub
on
my
nose
Tap
the
glass,
stop
frontin
Duke,
fresh
pair
of
jeans
Look
I
got
loot,
eleven
in
the
Bass
boots
Heard
a
screech
pull
up,
these
Jakes
flashed
me
5 pictures
One
had
my
man's
mug,
Semi
stepped
brother
hugs
You
asked
the
wrong
guy
son
I'm
from
Melina,
yeah
we
know
Mr.
Coles
Flew
in
two
days
ago
to
see
his
fam'
But
we
been
watchin
you,
crazily
The
whole
Staten
Island
shittin
on
you
Wisdom
Bird's
pregnant
out
in
Baisley
Hold
up
snow
in
your
ear,
fresh
baldie
tried
to
change
up
Not
trunk
today,
still
lookin
fly,
still
slammed
up
hung
Your
mom
pop
in
your
trunk,
slow
your
pace
Starks
fixed
your
face,
copped
out
the
6,
five
years
probat'
You
dealin
with
a
lot
of
science,
motherfucker
we're
watchin
you
Make
me
wanna
lick
shots
at
you
You
disgust
me,
screwin
me
down,
grab
my
gun
Go
'head
bust
me,
heard
you
hate
Jake
that's
what
it
must
be
Hands
behind
your
back,
spread
your
legs
Just
found
a
roach
in
your
tray
It's
not
mine
fucker,
what
I
said
You
met
the
13th
nigga
A
multimillion
dollar
operation
is
based
upon
it
yo
Where
in
the
Hell's
the
RZA?
He's
sellin
mics,
wildest
joints
Special
made
to
go
up
in
your
hand
and
which
went
out
on
point
Switched
to
the
next
scene,
I'm
at
the
crib
buggin
out
On
how
po'
live,
hatin
plus
harassin
the
kid
Park
the
truck
in
the
double
face
garage
Dial
1-900-Raekwon,
tell
the
God
shit's
mega
Reel
flashin
me
on
BET,
Planet
Groove,
Rap
City
News
NAACP
committees.
{*abruptly
ends*}
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