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Ghostface Killah - Miguel Sanchez lyrics
(feat. Sun God, Trife Da God) [Trife Da God] Uh, thirty thousand feet up in the air, up in the lear Dressed in a black tux, forty cal. tucked, strapped to the chair Half asleep, hopping out of my seat, caught in the daze Turned around and seen a white man's face, covered in shades I must of passed out, can't remember shit before I blacked out Three more niggas approaching, holding they mack's out One spoke, gave me the keys, to a boat Reached in his trenchcoat, and pulled out a yellow envelope Which contained twenty thousand in cash, a photograph Of a Colombian nigga with a long mustache Miguel Sanchez, keep a gun hidden in his pants leg With armed bodyguards, surveillance around his land spread He runs a billion dollar organization, under investigation Plus he's wanted by immigration Now I'm stuck, crazy look on my face, shocked in amazement How the fuck I get involved with these federal agents They knew my background, knew about what happened down in Sac Town They knew about the wrap down south, they laid they backs down Said I had two decisions, take out Miguel and his cartel Or spend the rest of my life in prison A classified mission on some James Bond shit 007 style, love to get some straight convicts Now I'm pondering, my thoughts wandering, got my girl on the phone Told her to kiss little Jay cuz I'll be gone again Honey, I can't sleep, she sucking her teeth If everything go good, baby, I'll be home in a week Pinching myself just to see if I'm dreaming, call up my team and Meet me by the docks in Miami, I'll fly out this weekend [Sun God] I got you nigga, four-four pop two niggas That drug lord that we want, got a spot for niggas And if we kill 'em, it's back to the block, my nigga He carried rugers, thirty four shots I figure He only holla at the kid, when there's money involved They pack shotguns, hollow tips, dummies and all When me and Trife doing right together, got no choice But give us ten, like we selling white together Left side, four-five, right, black beretta Taking trips over seas, flipping packs for better Every flight a hundred stacks and better, so grind hard Get ya money up, get on your grillies, don't mind odds Fuck a cop car, throw on some chumpers, and drop charge Hit the block hard, it's kinda hard being G-O-D If he owe Trife, he owe me Load up the mack grounds, M-I-A, call that the jack town Tell niggas I'm on my way, coming back down Miguel, Mr. Sanchez, it's a wrap, now Theodore extorting your shit, handing out packs, now I used to listen to 50 and jam "Back Down" Now I slang fifty kilo's where I'm at now Fifty a wop, purple top, nigga, I'm back, clown Crystal bottles, Grey Goose for the chat lounge Channel seven news, older dude, murder gat found. |
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