Artist: Styles P. (The LOX) Album: The Ghost (Promo) 12" Song: The Ghost Typed by: blumeraitis@alltel.net * * send corrections to the typist Spend a day with the ghost baby Get the understandin' I'm like a shadow I'm the ghost of this shit for all the spirits I possess All the voices I be hearin', shit I'm feelin' in my chest I could ghost through your walls and flow through your soul When it comes to the streets dog I give this shit my all and If I'm not grabbin' y'all, lift you in a sign then I'm a Sagitarius, the magician is my tarot card David is my first name but love it if you break it down I'm a real nigga, I'm a hug you if you break it down Styles is my last name meaning the expression of art I guess why I'm just blessed with the heart And they call me Holiday, I'm a let the blanks fill in I call myself that 'cause I was born on Thanksgiving 11-28-74 Snatch you, will I break bread with niggas that was ghetto or poor P. short for Paniro, that's a mixture of Robert or Al But I ain't actin' with a llama, I'm wild Here's why they call me the ghost I'm half alive, half dead, and when it's beef I bring all of the toast I'm the ghost of this shit, I provide you fluid That'll crack the sidewalks and rise the sewers Hey yo, I can see my son in my face Am I foul 'cause I pray when I'm high or with a gun on my waist Gots to ride for the criminals, die for the generals My ghost'll be around for my bicentennial Y'all better do the article 'Cause when I'm dead I ain't really gon' die, I'm gon' break down to particles Probably too deep to blow When I sleep I leave earth and come back, y'all can't peep the ghost It's like I make niggas shiver and think I'm so deep that if water tried to listen then the rivers'll sink And y'all niggas can't walk with me, I'm on some different shit I can't explain it but I hear the clouds talk to me It's sort of like the weed in a dutch, you wouldn't understand So I stay quiet not leavin' you much It's about time I even it up, I knock your spirit out Holiday to Ghost gettin' greasy as fuck Here's why they call me the ghost I'm half alive, half dead, and when it's beef I bring all of the toast I'm the ghost of this shit, I provide you fluid That'll crack the sidewalks and rise the sewers I vow to hold my niggas down, bust my gun, pay the bail Get the weed, get the liquor, dog I'm just a lick of styles Lyrically I'm somethin' else, hardest out of nothin' else Before you think I'm bitch you better all try to fuck yourself Mr. Paniro and, mixed with a pharoe and Got cold hearted when I started movin' heroin Robbed more shit than Billy the Kid You think you're nicer than the P you the silliest kid It's like I'm better off poppin' ya When I flow I got a formula in styles sort of like a philosipher Y'all start borrowin' lessons 'Cause rap without me is like the gods without the stars and the crescents I don't rap my niggas, I spit bars and baptize niggas Pull guns and kill half-sized niggas You heard about the Holy Ghost and took it for lies Next time you see Paniro just look in his eyes nigga Here's why they call me the ghost I'm half alive, half dead, and when it's beef I bring all of the toast I'm the ghost of this shit, I provide you fluid That'll crack the sidewalks and rise the sewers