[Intro]
No, man, all bitches are the same, just like my hoes, you know?
I keep 'em broke, wake up one morning with some money
They're subject to go crazy, you know?
I keep 'em looking good, pretty and all that, you know, but no dough
When I get a bitch, I got a bitch (Right on)

[Verse 1: Ghostface Killah]
Word up
Got motherfuckin' brother wise
You know what I'm saying?
Teaching the uncivilized
Yeah, runnin' the streets, you know it's deep
Word up, check his technique, yeah
I be Ghostface
Flippin' the marvelous track
Yeah, you know the steelo
But yo, yo
Check the banging-est sounds that I invent
Fake n***as who tried to flex hard came and went
They couldn't match up with the fly n***a with his back against the wall
Heads clocked once I came in the door
I played the speaker, sippin' a Kahlua
Saw this bad bitch wit' a switch and, yo, I had to step to her
In a manner, and rather wished the current was warm
When I had reached her, I looked and knew the shit was on
Peace, excuse me, allow to introduce myself
Yo, I'm the man, and honey, you've been rated top shelf
Yo, what's your name, hon? Hair wrapped up in a bun
Your eyes sparkle just like glass in the sun
Never diss 'em, it's hard for a n***a just to miss 'em
Especially when you're browsin', goin' fishing
Your waistline bangin' like a bassline
Physical form is well complex, and, yo, I love your outline, boo
Your whole body is wild with your rugged profile
Enough to make a hard rock smile
You can't strike out, tell me what can really go wrong
You're rocking labels, Tommy Hil' down to Claiborne
Show me some love, hon, show me some love, boo
Show me the vibe and I'll be more than glad to shoot it through
Ayo, peep it, I know you love Victoria's Secret
And lovin' all the marvelous slang on how I freaked it
Plus, see you're the type to make a n***a crash
Far from trash, your flesh is way softer than a baby's ass
Your body lotion is the potion
This shit got me open like dust and, yo, your stee is Thai potent, yo
We can go the distance, I'll put you under wings
From this convo, we can spark and see whatever brings
I walked the hot Arabian desert barefooted
I grabbed your hair, you grabbed my joint and knew where to put it
[Outro: Ghostface Killah]
Word up, yo, straight up and down, yo
Check the joint, baby
It be the Wu-Tang production
Yeah, yeah, and all types of shit
And brothers catchin' repercussions
Yo, straight up