need those spies of yours That is what your eyes are for I hit my head but you're kissing it better now I've made up my mind I've made up my mind But
Übersetzung: Ghosts. Mind Games.
t need those spies of yours That is what your eyes are for I hit my head but you're kissing it better now I've made up my mind I've made up my mind But
gettin took, whole bodies gettin dropped Niggas hop, jock, and flock When I hit they block (Chorus) So ride or die bitch Chop or get chopped ho B.G., split or get split Play the game
the man of your dreams, my planted schemes to be rich like a king and live my life trouble free I see, yesterday I called you names, and played games on your mind
rest in peace father I'm a ghost in these killin fields Hail Mary catch me if I go, let's go deep inside the solitary mind of a madman who screams in
still runnin' from the police (Put them motherfuckin Nike's on tight and get ghost y'all) [Dramacydal] I ain't got nuttin on my mind, but gettin in some
t no game (c'mon) You gotta be wit me, for real (uh-huh) cause it's real out here (uh-huh) So make up your mind, cause I ain't got no time Y'know? (c
said she liked the rapper type, no matter if their black or white And I'm like hmm, it looks like I'm gettin' ass tonight Spit some I'll game then it
care and having fun Consuming all the life in front of you Burning out the fuse and smoking the residue Possessive obsessions selfish childish games
webs you weave We are caught in the fame the passion's dead the life you've lead has drown in your shame oh the webs I weave I am caught in this game
hoes You don't even know 'em handcuffin them hoes Cuffin them hoes, cuffin them hoes [Jim Jones - talking over Chorus at first] Whassup Ghost? Westhaven Sucker! I hear you Ghost
Killa cracked his tiny form E'rybody break bread, huddle around Guzzle that, I'm about to throw a hand in your bag Since the face been revealed, game
funny [Interlude: Ghostface Killah] Yeah... what's happpening New York City? It's ya boy Ghost in the muthafuckin' house tonight ("Don't fuck with Ghost
like Rae and Ghost Good girl, or bad girl, nigga, they all the same See it's not how you fuck 'em, it's how you teach 'em the game You can shape and mold
can feel, no one you can touch Strangers stare in silence, they think they know your mind No place to jump off, that's the way the game's designed Another
feel like a king, but you lost your mind At the top, the need for more, it makes you blind In this fucking game that you describe as life There is you
lye after dark up at Griffith Park, shallow grave for the mark check his heart, the game about to start Big thangs automatic pu-tang (automatic) Keep your mind
