Ghostface Killah – Buck 50 (ft. Method Man, Redman & Cappadonna) (Audio, Lyrics)

Throwback to Ghostface Killah’s “Buck 50” track featuring Method Man, Redman & Cappadonna. Listen, stream, buy, mp3 download and read the lyrics to the song produced by RZA.

Ghostface Killah Buck 50

There are many who would deem Ghostface Killah’s sophomore solo album Supreme Clientele, released on February 8th 2000, one of the greatest hip-hop projects of all time. Others might even reserve a top-five spot for the magnificent chapter of Wu-Tang mythology, executive produced by the visionary tandem of RZA and Ghost-Dieni himself. And while there are plenty of gems packed throughout the project, there’s something electrifying about “Buck 50,” a tense and frenetic collaboration between Ghost, Method Man, Redman, and Cappadonna.

Over a classic Wu-Tang beat from the RZA, Method Man sets things off with a dexterous opening verse before Ghostface tags in for a few bars, their chemistry long-forged and evident. “The joopy look, my main bitches call me lazy,” raps Ghost, amusement in his voice. “Educated birds say, “Ghost you so crazy!” As the tone briefly shifts through a sampled pseudo-hook, Cappadonna drops off some grounded bars before loyal Wu affiliate Redman sinks his murderous teeth into the RZA classic; it’s a shame Reggie Noble and Bobby Digital never collided for a more thorough project, as the chemistry is incredible.

Ghostface Killah – Buck 50 (ft. Method Man, Redman & Cappadonna) (prod. RZA)

Lyrics

[Verse 1: Method Man]
Who I’m is? The Phenom, them niggas can’t live
Who I’m is? We ain’t got shit, something got to give
Y’all done flipped y’all wig, blacked out the crib
Die and live for my nigs and my bad-ass kids, freeze
Looking at your ice like “Jeez!”
I’m plotting on the mousetrap, about to snatch the cheese
I heard y’all kids is bout that, psychotherapy
You bugging where the couch at, Wu til they bury me
Never tell a lie, like George with the cherry tree
Now it’s cherry pie, if it’s not broke let it be
Ain’t nothing nice in New York
Stick you for your cake and your icing, that tough talk
Don’t mean nothing when you’re up North
So keep them hands where I can see ’em like you want freedom
You know that saying: “If you can’t join ’em, beat ’em
And push your way in”
We ain’t acrobats but we flip on occasion
Pick the pace up, pants sagging pull your waist up
Niggas renting slum jewels from Jacob, fool!
You’re like “Dude! I don’t like your fucking attitude”
Fronting on my Clan from the Stat but we ain’t mad at you

[Interlude: Ghostface Killah]
Yo, yo! Starks with the Parcheesi face, measly paced, old face
Ghostface! Jump out the window for a little taste
The joopy look, my main bitches call me lazy
Educated birds say, “Ghost you so crazy!”

[Verse 2: Cappadonna]
Cappa slide through with the Ghost
Post up like paint on walls, drip jew-els, big heat
Ruffle inside the bubble goose, it’s the Odd Couple
Hollow points follow you home to Staten Island
Playing with the big toys that make noise
Echo in the hall, a scared voice
Niggas start to act choice, but Duncan Hines
Didn’t know Betty Crocker had the two nines
Made the club moist, shattered the windows
Dustheads running
The rap kingpin plus the Black Jesus is coming

[Verse 3: Redman]
The words you talk better be the words you walk
Body you in the bed where the nurses are
Put your vein out, watch me insert the dart
Til it plagues from Bricks to the Persian Gulf
Light circuits off, thirty-third of my brain is off
That explains why my language off
My gun aim and cough, y’all ain’t trained to brawl
Y’all more like in training bras
Wet behind the ear, you’re not prepared
For the project flow, with extra stairs
I pass out a vest to wear (bullets flyin)
Yo, the hard wire, starting bonfires
Pull the mask so you know it’s me
And your weed got more seeds than ODB
Can’t smoke with ya, watch Ghost tie a rope to ya
Def and Wu will open ya

[Chorus: Method Man & (Redman)]
Eat a dick like (HUH!)
Baby shake your shit, girl you’re thick like (HUH!)
Getting rich like (HUH!)

[Verse 4: Ghostface Killah]
Word, it’s me y’all
We in two sixes flirting with bitches, dime plus
Taking pictures, How you doing baby? My name Ghost
Don’t get caught up in my chains or the way that I speak
Seek intelligence, slickest nigga going since “Grease”
Check out the grays on the side of my waves
I grew those on Rikers Island
Stressed out, balled up in the cage
Pull a boot out on Jimmy Jam, text takes jam
Silky texture, Jordan jumped up like Clyde Drexler
All up in the parrot, nose numb, real as they come
Biggie’s Versaces, snow white rabbit
Hands is like photographic magic
Funeral love, move in when we hug, don’t make it a habit
Hit the gym for two weeks, my back all chiseled
Elbows unique now meet the new me
Ghetto fabulous, Tone Atlas
Zulu Nation in the 80’s in front of Macy’s I start my own chapters
Tyco Nite-Glow velvet pose, special effects
High-tech armors merc you at the shows
Super-cali-fragi-listic-expi-ali-docious
Docious-ali-expi-fragi-listic-cali-super
Cancún, catch me in the room, eating grouper

[Chorus: Method Man & (Redman)]
Shoe fly shoe, Wally Don Clark crew
Fuck y’all wanna do, crack a brew
Smoke an L or two and flip like (HUH!)
Killing for the whole clique is sick like (HUH!)
You and your stank bitch eat a dick like (HUH!)
Baby shake your shit, girl you’re thick like (HUH!)
Getting rich like (HUH!)