Smooth Sailing - Ghostface Killah, Trife, Solomon

Yo, behind those mahogany walls

Indoor pools with steel doors, flipping eggs over in my silk drawers

While I"m charging my cell, sparking the L

Baby mother reading my mail, just that they switched seats

To another jail, and his banger is old fire

He’s locked up with them dudes from the fucking Wire

That’s when I passed her the bone, started to cough

And flossed all through the house, robe on, ruger out

Homebuyers see the sign, yeah ya’ll, I’m moving out

In front of the crib, niggas flipped, I had to shoot it out

Thirty G, living room sets, porcelain plates

With big giant wall units, even the front grass

Saw your boy doing it, Tone Stark he’ll never fall

I even put work in, under the floor

In the box with the ox, and my skeleton jaw

Tell 'em soldiers I’m in the bush if the President call

Get 'em, the’ll be nothing but smooth sailing

When the heat shot, now your crew’s bailing

I refuse to bow down, refuse to lay down

Go five and turn, to let the biz, all I found

Where the fuck is the kids crown?

Lady luck breathing all over the dikes

With 745 airlines, the color of Cajun rice

This the passion of Christ, done seen it and felt it all

Til rats shit in my boots, like how the fuck the rats get in my boots

A brown metal that sizzles, wrap up more dead meat then riddles

Injuries that have you missing more games than Kerry Kittles

There’s a war going on outside, you hear the fiddles?

And you so called 'units', go 'head and jump

And get your body severed apart with pumps

Aiyo, watch who you talk around, cuz ya’ll seen niggas snitching

And they quick to turn on you like keys in the ignition

Niggas start submitting, when them slugs is spitting

And believe me, that shit’ll hurt like when your drugs is missing

Yo, these bullets ain’t thug resistant, and they see a nigga dying

Choking off his own blood is sickening

Picture that, now picture this, picture me running in your lab

Like Allen Iverson waving the fifth

But this ain’t no domestic dispute, go 'head and get cute

Force my hand, and see if I’m connected with loot

Somebody gon' find your body on the stitching of the roof

The art of gunplay, I stay perfected when I shoot

And this ain’t a lottery, but ya’ll dudes can 'take seven'

The slugs’ll have your ass 'burning up' like Faith Evans

Facial expressions change when you’re facing that weapon

Nigga, your ass gon' die, try to escape within sessions