Dennis Coles (born May 9, 1970), better known by his stage name Ghostface K… Read Full Bio ↴Dennis Coles (born May 9, 1970), better known by his stage name Ghostface Killah, is an American rapper and member of the Wu-Tang Clan. After the group achieved breakthrough success with their 1993 debut, Enter the Wu-Tang (36 Chambers) , the members went on to pursue solo careers to varying levels of success. Ghostface Killah debuted his solo-career in 1996 with Ironman, which was well received by music critics. He would continue his career, creating additional award-winning albums over the following years such as Supreme Clientele, Fishscale, More Fish, and The Big Doe Rehab.
Ghostface Killah is critically acclaimed for his loud, fast-paced flow, and his stream-of-consciousness narratives containing cryptic slang and non-sequiturs.
Ghostface Killah was raised in the Stapleton housing projects in Staten Island, New York. In his autobiographical song "All That I Got Is You", Ghost tells the story of his childhood. He raps about how he grew up in a three bedroom apartment without his father, who left him at the age of six. Apparently, his mother had nine children.
His stage name was taken from one of the characters in the 1979 kung fu film Mystery of Chessboxing.
He was also a close friend of the three founding members of Wu-tang clan
Ghostface Killah is critically acclaimed for his loud, fast-paced flow, and his stream-of-consciousness narratives containing cryptic slang and non-sequiturs.
Ghostface Killah was raised in the Stapleton housing projects in Staten Island, New York. In his autobiographical song "All That I Got Is You", Ghost tells the story of his childhood. He raps about how he grew up in a three bedroom apartment without his father, who left him at the age of six. Apparently, his mother had nine children.
His stage name was taken from one of the characters in the 1979 kung fu film Mystery of Chessboxing.
He was also a close friend of the three founding members of Wu-tang clan
Burner to Burner
Ghostface Killah Lyrics
Yeah, baby
You know what it is, Yap City (all day)
Come on
Shit make you wanna smack somethin' off top
Word up, check it
Yeah, y'all niggas is goin' to hell, yo
I pledge allegiance to crime, right hand on the burner
Death to all cornball niggas who wanna turn up
I call it gettin' it in, you call it animosity
Listen, you could never match my velocity
Too much stamina, glitter in front of cameras
On the red carpet, still clean your clock like a janitor
Favorite Pac joint was "I Ain't Mad at Cha"
Skinny jean faggot, you ain't man enough
You ain't got the heart to snuff plus cut, stab, or bust
We wrestle down elephants, two hundred grand per tusk
The ball spinnin', spillin' Spades on Asian women
Love them pretty black joints, lil' Malaysian in 'em
Ghost got a gambling habit, I burn bookies
Smack so many promoters out here, they scared to book me
Scared to book niggas, your highness
Diamonds on the Yankee sign, dirt on the camo
Six stones floodin' the left hand like Thanos
While you sambos dance to Bo Jangles
I'm verified, toasting on boats with hoes, damsels
Yeah, son, I'm loving the hate
Why I keep a knife on me, so I'm sure to get a cut of the cake
Now my name hold double the weight
That's an actual fact, a million plus motherfuckers relate, yeah
I'm on them heavy bags like Deontay
And I'm wild caught, y'all niggas farm-raised
For 50 Cent, I went to war with many men
Then slapped them with the jacket like Benny Hinn
I'm hittin' that jet fuel, you're new in the game, lame
You'll never use Deck for a step stool
They don't wanna hear that shit, they want Dorothy
Fire comin' out of my mouth, that's an arsony
I'm so hood, tossed the nine when I left it
Rubber bands wrapped around my thoughts the more I stretch it
When it come back, I pop that sucker shit
I smoke blunts and I spit on that rhetoric
Original ties in, SI gutter
Let's get it right, fuck you and your brother
My raps in the back of your head like two mufflers
So pull your dress up, your ass ain't tough enough
Niggas cuddle up with the wife, they can't come out
I be at the club all night, I might dumb out
You fuck around with big dawgs, ain't no bark here
Fuck you and your friends, nigga, you can't park here
My sword indeed make more niggas bleed
Leave it to the specialists, we mean business
Come and get some, you want none
I hit it Wu-Tang style, caught up in the mix
(Wu-Tang style, caught up in the mix)
You know what it is, Yap City (all day)
Come on
Shit make you wanna smack somethin' off top
Word up, check it
Yeah, y'all niggas is goin' to hell, yo
I pledge allegiance to crime, right hand on the burner
Death to all cornball niggas who wanna turn up
I call it gettin' it in, you call it animosity
Too much stamina, glitter in front of cameras
On the red carpet, still clean your clock like a janitor
Favorite Pac joint was "I Ain't Mad at Cha"
Skinny jean faggot, you ain't man enough
You ain't got the heart to snuff plus cut, stab, or bust
We wrestle down elephants, two hundred grand per tusk
The ball spinnin', spillin' Spades on Asian women
Love them pretty black joints, lil' Malaysian in 'em
Ghost got a gambling habit, I burn bookies
Smack so many promoters out here, they scared to book me
Scared to book niggas, your highness
Diamonds on the Yankee sign, dirt on the camo
Six stones floodin' the left hand like Thanos
While you sambos dance to Bo Jangles
I'm verified, toasting on boats with hoes, damsels
Yeah, son, I'm loving the hate
Why I keep a knife on me, so I'm sure to get a cut of the cake
Now my name hold double the weight
That's an actual fact, a million plus motherfuckers relate, yeah
I'm on them heavy bags like Deontay
And I'm wild caught, y'all niggas farm-raised
For 50 Cent, I went to war with many men
Then slapped them with the jacket like Benny Hinn
I'm hittin' that jet fuel, you're new in the game, lame
You'll never use Deck for a step stool
They don't wanna hear that shit, they want Dorothy
Fire comin' out of my mouth, that's an arsony
I'm so hood, tossed the nine when I left it
Rubber bands wrapped around my thoughts the more I stretch it
When it come back, I pop that sucker shit
I smoke blunts and I spit on that rhetoric
Original ties in, SI gutter
Let's get it right, fuck you and your brother
My raps in the back of your head like two mufflers
So pull your dress up, your ass ain't tough enough
Niggas cuddle up with the wife, they can't come out
I be at the club all night, I might dumb out
You fuck around with big dawgs, ain't no bark here
Fuck you and your friends, nigga, you can't park here
My sword indeed make more niggas bleed
Leave it to the specialists, we mean business
Come and get some, you want none
I hit it Wu-Tang style, caught up in the mix
(Wu-Tang style, caught up in the mix)
Lyrics ยฉ Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
Written by: Danny Caiazzo, Darryl Hill, Dennis Coles, Jason Hunter
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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Ranard McGriff
Fire! Cap killed it
Kermie Hilflipper
๐ฏ๐ฏ๐ฏ
Michael Johnson
this is what bowsers castle would sound like in 2019๐ฅ๐ฅ๐ฅ
Baq Alfaham
My rap is in the back of your head like two mufflers -CAPPADONNA THA ILLEST
Angel D
Mean ๐ฅ
Spencer Wright
INS is bananas with the flow!!
dacobu1
@Spencer Wright " ...Yeah, son, I'm lovin' the hate.
Why I keep a knife on me?
So I'm sure to get a cut o' the cake"
... Day-um๐๐ฎ
Spencer Wright
@dacobu1 "six stones on left hand like Thanos".....
dacobu1
Truths
Angel D
Facts