Artist: Ghostface Killah f/ Inspectah Deck, U-God Album: Adrian Younge presents Twelve Reasons to Die Song: Blood on the Cobblestones Typed by: Cno Evil [Ghostface Killah] Yo, aiyo, it's war on the street, blood on the cobblestone I leave 'em buried alive, just like a fossil bone Body bags line the street, reporters reporting Mafia ties of, drug and extortion DeLuca's first Starky, I done headline the news Police call war on crime, they gonna lose Judges get kidnapped, captains get decapitated Starks rise above all to be emancipated Black Godfather, family's at war Drive-by's and Molotov's, to settle the score Butcher shops are filled with chopped up casualties I make sure to keep guns in all my faculties Streets run red when the boss is disrespected Neglected, I guarantee no man's protected To each his own, grab a gun off the shelf Cuz in the war zone it cause every man for self [Chorus: Ghostface Killah] Cuz in the war zone it cause every man for self Cuz in the war zone it cause every man for self [U-God] How you prepare for war? Grab your guns and your hardware Never close your eyes in the bomber chair Your heart of a lion, that's what got him here Bulletproof your car, yo, we out of here Fuck the DeLuca's, we got shooters with Sub-machines, bone crush a nigga like a football team Under a new regime, the old, we throw it out, bring back the hammer Let the lord throw them out, keep the gun cocked, at the whore house Sip the brown liquor, while we move a quarter ounce Push the territories, move north to south Your high power shine, yours is watered down, I'm underground With the vests on, open up your head, now your flesh is torn Never turn my back up in restaurant Push holes in cassettes, come test the Don Forty five in my hostler, let me stretch my arms [Chorus] [Inspectah Deck] So the DeLuca's want Tone, nah, not today Cock and spray, side with him and ya got to pay Don't even kill him, just make him feel a lot of pain Stake out his wife and his seed at the soccer game Greet him with open arms, beat him with no regards Feed him to two priests, squeeze him, leave him with no resolve Make a lead on me, repping for the territory No stepping on me, brethren, that's a nugatory You want a war? These men pop dangerous Taking all in a ten block radius Murder weight double, triple, cripple the strip Like it got hit with a couple of missiles Eight'll fly through your door, I get in your crib In a wig, in a cable guy uniform My shooters maneuver, got DeLuca in a scope Moving close, say the word, Tone, dude is ghost