Songtext zu 'One' von Ghostface Killah

[Intro: Ghostface, (Big Trife)]
Yo, yeah {"New Ghostface!"}
Yeah, to glorious days {"one"}
Yeah God, check it out y'all
We back, yes yes y'all {"one"}
(Fake roller derbies)
Yeah, masked avengers
We're here to sharpen your sword {"one"}
All praises due to T.M.F., Wu-Tang Clan
Scream on it, Ghost

[Ghostface]
Eh yo, we at the weedgate, waitin for Jake
We want eight ravioli bags, two thirsty villians yelling belly aches {"one"}
Heavyweight rhyme writers hittin the grass
Stash the right bitch, pull out his kite from this white bitch {"one"}
Talkin bout, "Dear Ghost, you the only nigga I know
like when the cops come, you never hide your toast" {"one"}
Guests started mashing, CVL, Ice Water battlion
Past tense place to gold caskets {"one"}
Dru Hill bitches, specialist loungin at the mosk
Suede cufy, Rabbi come dig up a dentist {"one"}
Rhymes is made of garlic, never in the target
when the NARC's hit, rumor is you might start to spit {"one"}
You nice Lord, sweet daddy Grace, wind lifted
on the dancefloor, mangos is free followed by Ghost {"one"}
Dug behind monument cakes, we never half-baked
Alaskan, cess-capade, pushin new court dates {"one"}
Trauma, hands is like candy canes, lay my balls on ice
Branches in my weed be the vein {"one"}
Swimsuit issue, darts sent truly from the heart, boo, I miss you
See that he rock a wrist, dude {"one"}
Moder-en slave God, graveyard spells, fog your goggles
Layin like needles in the hospital {"one"}
Five steps to concer, Ax Vernon debt, big ass whistle
Ziploc your ear, here thistle {"one"}

[T.M.F. - both]
To my real bitches take your draws off
To all my high niggas, snatch her skirt off {"one"}
Just in case she wanna play, get up in that bitch face
and tell her Ghost said, "Take your clothes off!" {"one"}

[Ghostface]
Eh yo, the Devil planted fear inside the black babies
Fifty cent sodas in the hood, they goin crazy {"one"}
Dead meat placed on the shelves, we eat cold cuts
Fast from the heart y'all, and GROW UP {"one"}

Eh yo, crash thru, break the glass, Tony with the goalie mask
That's the pass, heavy ice rollin, layin on the grass {"one"}
Love the grass, colliflower hurtin when I dumped the trash
Sour mad surgeon, every glass up at the Wally bash {"one"}
Sun splash, autographed lesson with your name slashed
Backdraft, four powders, screamin with the pearly hats {"one"}
Children fix the contrast as the sound clashes
Misses Dash, sprinkle wit her icsicle eye lashes {"one"}
Ask coward Pendergrass for backstage passes
Special guest, no more Johnny Blaze, Johnny Mattress {"one"}
Acrobat, run up on that Love Jones actress
Distract that cat while I'm hot sugar get a crack at this {"one"}
Dickin down Oprah, jump rope, David think he's rasta
Black man, DC hit to mocha {"one"}
Two tangerine sofa, two super soakers in the Rover
Hit the sport's bar, tell a young lady to bend over {"one"}
Meditated yoga, powder ball, dancin with the vulture
Pastor Troy layin for Travolta {"one"}
Yo, switch the lingo, five-nine-seventy
God glow, seven-fifteen, fall be heavenly {"one"}

Eh yo, the Devil planted fear inside the black babies
Fifty cent sodas in the hood, they goin crazy {"one"}
Dead meat placed on the shelves, we eat cold cuts
Fast from the heart y'all, and GROW UP {"one"}

[Outro: Ghostface, (Trey-Mack), <Big Trife>]
Eh yo, Wu-Tang Clan, T.M.F. in the motherfuckin joint
We all connect as {"one"}
(Aw shit, baby) Straight up and down y'all
(Staple-town, y'all) Yo, how many girls you gotta fuck, yo? {"one"}
(Ah-hah, knowI'msayin? Trey-Mack, what?) <Shaolin, Staple-town, B>
How many nuts you might bust? {"one"}
Haha, straight up and down
<Staple drop a nigga, yo> {"one"}
(How many shots?) {"one"}
<Gunnin for the dome and it only takes...> {"one"}
(That's it) Word up
How many cakes we bake, y'all? {"one"}
(Yo, yo, yo) <How many L's we smoke?> {"one"}
(Aw shit, haha) <...at a time, nigga?> {"one"}