Mighty Healthy Lyrics
| Song | Mighty Healthy |
| Artist | Ghostface Killah |
| Album | Ghostdeini The Great (Edited) |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 作词 : Bean, Coles, Rooney | |
| My God, so they are killers | |
| I've heard lots of people say once a man's a killer | |
| They just keep on killing and killing | |
| They sort of develop a taste for blood | |
| Yeah, that's right, they kill one man or kill ten | |
| It's all the same after all, they can only hang you once | |
| Both hands clusty, chillin' with my man | |
| Rusty low down | |
| Blew off the burner kinda dusty | |
| The world can't touch | |
| Ghost, purple tape | |
| Rae co-host | |
| Monty Hall expo, intellect you red pro | |
| Son triflin' fuck, wildflower on the cyclin' | |
| Pick up the brew thought | |
| I was Michael an' | |
| Mics are writin' pool, now, | |
| I'm into Iron | |
| DualsTurn-ons the | |
| Earth's whoopee, she out of law school | |
| In hale break beats of hell | |
| A-Alikes propel parallel | |
| Duracell night, you flash a burnt cell | |
| Snap out of | |
| CandyLand, kids the old rumor is | |
| Blacks become immune to shit, we never did like | |
| Eatin' dead birds chose the pharmacy over herbs | |
| Men marryin' men, ill they got the herbs pulsar | |
| Scissor hand wig vanished in the winter | |
| Livin' off land you god damn right, | |
| I fuck, fans king me | |
| Check, checkmate props like the micro chip founder | |
| Neck to neck stocks with | |
| Bill Gates now | |
| When we hug these mics we get busy | |
| Come and have a good time with | |
| G O DMake you snap your fingers or wiggle | |
| Scream, shout, laugh and just giggle | |
| Shake that body, party that body | |
| Don't fuck with | |
| Ghost ,you'll feel sorry | |
| That's word, | |
| I'm not the herb | |
| Understand what | |
| I'm sayin', sayin', sayin' | |
| Hit mics like | |
| Ted Koppel, rifle expert | |
| Let off the | |
| Eiffel, burn a flag in the grass it's spiteful | |
| Ringleader set it off, rap | |
| Derek Jeter | |
| Culprit, prince of the game, wish you could see us | |
| We lay low glitter wax full bangles | |
| Priceless rolls, lay around the | |
| God, get tangled | |
| Woolly hair, eyes firey red, feet made of brass | |
| Twelve men, following me, it be the | |
| God staffMove, every script's like | |
| MiramaxSmash the big boy totaled it, will shot fear effects | |
| Son beamin' wifee on the beach, sippin' | |
| ZimaWu 'binos to latinos, we bust | |
| SelenaOver night, | |
| God schedules, fed ex | |
| Pretty soloette velvet nice | |
| DNA scroll genetics | |
| Too hot to handle one thought scramblin' the mandolin | |
| Hundred game | |
| Wilt Chamberlain, smack 'em, say when | |
| He rollin' up, face wrinkled up, hands is on his nuts | |
| Yo, kid stop frontin' on the ground before you get touched | |
| It's Canada | |
| Dry sess, obsessed with | |
| Allah's sun | |
| We want rye, we want it so bad we might cry | |
| What we do, depends on breath control | |
| So it's the first thing you must learn | |
| Fortunately it's easy, you'll soon learn | |
| My God so they are killers | |
| Killing and killing, they sort of develop a taste for blood | |
| My God so they are killers | |
| My God, my | |
| God so they are killers |
| zuo ci : Bean, Coles, Rooney | |
| My God, so they are killers | |
| I' ve heard lots of people say once a man' s a killer | |
| They just keep on killing and killing | |
| They sort of develop a taste for blood | |
| Yeah, that' s right, they kill one man or kill ten | |
| It' s all the same after all, they can only hang you once | |
| Both hands clusty, chillin' with my man | |
| Rusty low down | |
| Blew off the burner kinda dusty | |
| The world can' t touch | |
| Ghost, purple tape | |
| Rae cohost | |
| Monty Hall expo, intellect you red pro | |
| Son triflin' fuck, wildflower on the cyclin' | |
| Pick up the brew thought | |
| I was Michael an' | |
| Mics are writin' pool, now, | |
| I' m into Iron | |
| DualsTurnons the | |
| Earth' s whoopee, she out of law school | |
| In hale break beats of hell | |
| AAlikes propel parallel | |
| Duracell night, you flash a burnt cell | |
| Snap out of | |
| CandyLand, kids the old rumor is | |
| Blacks become immune to shit, we never did like | |
| Eatin' dead birds chose the pharmacy over herbs | |
| Men marryin' men, ill they got the herbs pulsar | |
| Scissor hand wig vanished in the winter | |
| Livin' off land you god damn right, | |
| I fuck, fans king me | |
| Check, checkmate props like the micro chip founder | |
| Neck to neck stocks with | |
| Bill Gates now | |
| When we hug these mics we get busy | |
| Come and have a good time with | |
| G O DMake you snap your fingers or wiggle | |
| Scream, shout, laugh and just giggle | |
| Shake that body, party that body | |
| Don' t fuck with | |
| Ghost , you' ll feel sorry | |
| That' s word, | |
| I' m not the herb | |
| Understand what | |
| I' m sayin', sayin', sayin' | |
| Hit mics like | |
| Ted Koppel, rifle expert | |
| Let off the | |
| Eiffel, burn a flag in the grass it' s spiteful | |
| Ringleader set it off, rap | |
| Derek Jeter | |
| Culprit, prince of the game, wish you could see us | |
| We lay low glitter wax full bangles | |
| Priceless rolls, lay around the | |
| God, get tangled | |
| Woolly hair, eyes firey red, feet made of brass | |
| Twelve men, following me, it be the | |
| God staffMove, every script' s like | |
| MiramaxSmash the big boy totaled it, will shot fear effects | |
| Son beamin' wifee on the beach, sippin' | |
| ZimaWu ' binos to latinos, we bust | |
| SelenaOver night, | |
| God schedules, fed ex | |
| Pretty soloette velvet nice | |
| DNA scroll genetics | |
| Too hot to handle one thought scramblin' the mandolin | |
| Hundred game | |
| Wilt Chamberlain, smack ' em, say when | |
| He rollin' up, face wrinkled up, hands is on his nuts | |
| Yo, kid stop frontin' on the ground before you get touched | |
| It' s Canada | |
| Dry sess, obsessed with | |
| Allah' s sun | |
| We want rye, we want it so bad we might cry | |
| What we do, depends on breath control | |
| So it' s the first thing you must learn | |
| Fortunately it' s easy, you' ll soon learn | |
| My God so they are killers | |
| Killing and killing, they sort of develop a taste for blood | |
| My God so they are killers | |
| My God, my | |
| God so they are killers |
| zuò cí : Bean, Coles, Rooney | |
| My God, so they are killers | |
| I' ve heard lots of people say once a man' s a killer | |
| They just keep on killing and killing | |
| They sort of develop a taste for blood | |
| Yeah, that' s right, they kill one man or kill ten | |
| It' s all the same after all, they can only hang you once | |
| Both hands clusty, chillin' with my man | |
| Rusty low down | |
| Blew off the burner kinda dusty | |
| The world can' t touch | |
| Ghost, purple tape | |
| Rae cohost | |
| Monty Hall expo, intellect you red pro | |
| Son triflin' fuck, wildflower on the cyclin' | |
| Pick up the brew thought | |
| I was Michael an' | |
| Mics are writin' pool, now, | |
| I' m into Iron | |
| DualsTurnons the | |
| Earth' s whoopee, she out of law school | |
| In hale break beats of hell | |
| AAlikes propel parallel | |
| Duracell night, you flash a burnt cell | |
| Snap out of | |
| CandyLand, kids the old rumor is | |
| Blacks become immune to shit, we never did like | |
| Eatin' dead birds chose the pharmacy over herbs | |
| Men marryin' men, ill they got the herbs pulsar | |
| Scissor hand wig vanished in the winter | |
| Livin' off land you god damn right, | |
| I fuck, fans king me | |
| Check, checkmate props like the micro chip founder | |
| Neck to neck stocks with | |
| Bill Gates now | |
| When we hug these mics we get busy | |
| Come and have a good time with | |
| G O DMake you snap your fingers or wiggle | |
| Scream, shout, laugh and just giggle | |
| Shake that body, party that body | |
| Don' t fuck with | |
| Ghost , you' ll feel sorry | |
| That' s word, | |
| I' m not the herb | |
| Understand what | |
| I' m sayin', sayin', sayin' | |
| Hit mics like | |
| Ted Koppel, rifle expert | |
| Let off the | |
| Eiffel, burn a flag in the grass it' s spiteful | |
| Ringleader set it off, rap | |
| Derek Jeter | |
| Culprit, prince of the game, wish you could see us | |
| We lay low glitter wax full bangles | |
| Priceless rolls, lay around the | |
| God, get tangled | |
| Woolly hair, eyes firey red, feet made of brass | |
| Twelve men, following me, it be the | |
| God staffMove, every script' s like | |
| MiramaxSmash the big boy totaled it, will shot fear effects | |
| Son beamin' wifee on the beach, sippin' | |
| ZimaWu ' binos to latinos, we bust | |
| SelenaOver night, | |
| God schedules, fed ex | |
| Pretty soloette velvet nice | |
| DNA scroll genetics | |
| Too hot to handle one thought scramblin' the mandolin | |
| Hundred game | |
| Wilt Chamberlain, smack ' em, say when | |
| He rollin' up, face wrinkled up, hands is on his nuts | |
| Yo, kid stop frontin' on the ground before you get touched | |
| It' s Canada | |
| Dry sess, obsessed with | |
| Allah' s sun | |
| We want rye, we want it so bad we might cry | |
| What we do, depends on breath control | |
| So it' s the first thing you must learn | |
| Fortunately it' s easy, you' ll soon learn | |
| My God so they are killers | |
| Killing and killing, they sort of develop a taste for blood | |
| My God so they are killers | |
| My God, my | |
| God so they are killers |
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