Discover the poetic beauty in ‘Rise of the Ghostface Killah’ by Adrian Younge. This lyric breakdown takes you on a journey through the artist’s thoughts, emotions, and the story they aim to tell. From clever metaphors to evocative imagery, we delve into the nuances that make this song a lyrical masterpiece. Whether you’re a fan of Adrian Younge or a lover of well-crafted words, our detailed analysis will give you a deeper understanding and appreciation of this song.
Medusa stare, my guns bust in silence
I’m a black vigilante killer, pro violence
It’s the rebirth, born again
Rise through the vinyl spin
They took out Starks but the light shines within
It’s the almighty rise of the murderous Ghostface
Bodies dropped in Owls, left a cold case
Colombian neckties from a black Gambino
Bodies get dumped in the black El Camino
It’s Reno, gangster wars, money, power, respect
Revenge is felt like the heat from a tec
Tommy guns are irrelevant, I’m bulletproof now
I could fly through the air and duck your chick-a-pow
Black superhero, crime boss arch nemesis
Good vs. Evil since the first book of Genesis
Battle to the end that’s the way of the thriller
And Starks is reborn as the Ghostface KILLAH
No one could get iller
Murders, bodies chopped into ziplocks
Kill or be killed on these cobblestone street blocks
Crime boss, I call warn the DeLucas
Watch my eyes turn red, I got a squad full of shooters
Murder, murder, kill, kill, kill
When the gas start to hum I put the spark to your grill
Late night, stuck in the limo
Hogtie the capo all up,
Beheaded the driver
Left the bitch in the back with no tongue as the survivor
Raw dog, spit in her mouth, disappear in a swarm of killer bees
Cripple ’em from they knees, take they legs out (Nigga you know the steez!)
I’m a nighthawk, eagle eye, power of mind control
Faster than the speed of light, you catch a big hole
Ruthless, six bodies hung in the meat room
The butcher shop, I call it the body shop
Start from the bottom, killin’ all the way to the top
Carve my name in your skin, pull a stocking mask over your face for recognition
No time for remission, attack till there’s no one left in the position
The return of the worst case scenario, uh
Ghostface attacks on land and now aerial
Murders, bodies chopped into ziplocks
Kill or be killed on these cobblestone street blocks
Crime boss, I call warn the DeLucas
Watch my eyes turn red, I got a squad full of shooters
Murder, murder, kill, kill, kill
When the gas start to hum I put the spark to your grill