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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

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


[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