[Intro: Ghostface Killah] Yeah, yeah... we gon' high to this (The world's crazy, son yeah.. you know) We gon' high to this (just something about her) My girl's a killa, my girl's a killa (You know, her bag was always heavy, everytime I been around it) We gon' high to this (and diners, and restaurants, I don't know) Yeah... yo... [Ghostface Killah] Aiyo, I couldn't get enough from the way she smell Was it Baby Phat, J.Lo, or straight Chanel Her face belongs in a Luther video, Never Too Much The way she smile, her face look pretty, though Hands is soft, feet, no calysses Her father owned six pallets in palaces Laying out in New York, crush villas in Vegas Greatest designer wear, son, she sport the latest So I, pause the smooth talk, made her a drink Blew her a kiss, as I sat down, she smiled and winked Stood up, grabbed my hand, what up, slid ya boy to the bedroom Popped the suitcase, I'm in the lead room This check was loaded, equipped, with fifths Porcelain handles with horse back kicks, whispered "You know what, Ghost, I do hits" But niggas get fooled By the sexyness, I'm a real gritty bitch [Chorus: Method Man] Killa Lipstick, my femme fatale, with the biscuits A hit chick, now I'm number one on her hitlist She killing the game, cuz she the business Type of chick that love you to death, then leave no witness Killa, I call you Killa cuz you slay me Killa, you murda, mami? Ooh, you such a fucking lady Killa, drive me half crazy, let's go half on this baby Killa Lipstick, k-k-killa [Ghostface Killah] Yeah, this white chick Everlay, she smell Downy Had her best friend named Jade, from Rockland County Double cokeheads who love cartoons, type chicks who eat pussy Listen to Prince and play with they wombs Flight attendant out of Delta Airline, get money girls Travelled the world, only one did jail time Jade, her father's a judge, same nigga in the O.J. case When he tried on the glove, but uh, in this scenario, four A.M. The bars closed, now we at it again Drunk nigga, come out I'm popping mad shit, he's past it Nancy Drew, drew out her purse, the blue steel ratchet Didn't even say shit, she blasted, barrel smoking Shot the Henny out his hand for laughing These are my bitches, Nancy and Jade Natural born killas be letting they guns blaze... god damn! [Chorus] [Masta Killa] Look she tired of the same old basic, let's face it This is how she wants to be laced, I'm raping it Anywhere, I'm taking it, she loving how the gangsta flex This is thug sex, Iking it, nasty talk As she liking it, spanking it, she biting the sheets She's a freak, my view from the embassy suites Is off the beach shore, Dirty would've love you, mami 'You like it raw?' A tear drop, fucking you slow I see your knees knock, your love is so sweet If I switch beats, and hit you with angles, you might breathe You know the Godbody make healthy wise seeds You, plus a glass of weed, is all he need You could travel so far, look, maybe book a flight to Mars To escaping at, one forty two? They take Jet Blue for two, into Long Beach Rain lifted whipping the port, from when I touch Look something nice up in the stash, hit a Dutch [Chorus]
Written by: RALPH AIKENS, ANTHONY CAPPUTO, DENNIS COLES, TYRONE CRUM, KEITH HARRISON, ROBERT NEAL, ROGER PARKER, CLARENCE SATCHELL, CLIFFORD SMITH, ELGIN TURNER
Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
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"Killa Lipstick Lyrics." Lyrics.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2023. Web. 26 Sep. 2023. <https://www.lyrics.com/lyric/30898401/Method+Man/Killa+Lipstick>.