cartel gathering lyrics – jadakiss

(feat. ghostface killah, raekwon)

[ghostface killah]
yo yo yo! word to ride n*gg*, yeah

aiyyo we four or five n*gg*z with furs on
up top gated up, big tables got the reserves on
blowin on saxophones, the band is rough
so much ice on looks like my wrist been cut
and we just made it back from beijing
seen my jeweler, told him melt the bird down to eight rings
and the music stopped, jada stood up (yeah)
before the speech, he had everybody raise they cups
he said, i been in spots where i can’t even mention it
“don’t drink the cris’, ghost mighta p*ssed in it!”
romanian dude, black down, pourin the saki
face slumped to the side like rocky
then strahan came through, with his bullsh*t ring
he said yikes, when i pulled out my monster bling
don’t be afraid of the new york street talk
i switch gear all day bro, like you do on your peach porch
the chairs is suede, the walls is velvet
marquise ballroom, so live i felt it
fat *sses in fishnets, shakin they pelvis
playin with they p*ssy, middle finger drippin, i smelt it
poker tables, cr*p joints just for rap n*gg*z
me and sheek, walkin around b*tch-slappin n*gg*z
there go rae, there go p
yo chop whattup! whattup?

sam cooke writin hand, all of my lightning, d*mn
used to rob n*gg*z in sam’s, buy shams
for my dude’s baby shoe or booster baby, rollin with steel
eatin jamaican food under the wheel
you know the deal, book somethin then blow
when from a o to a low, little apartment in brookdale
gold was my motto, lotto numbers is what?
had it in me, rolled down coolin with c*ke
that’s the 90’s, chef era take over america
bag ugly betty up, make her ms. guerrera
pinky wench in sweaters, cortex burnin the mic booth
travel right past my heritage
them old school n*gg*z is me
taught me how to read, get skee’d, everybody missin a ki
yo i do this with a natural movement
catch me by the {?}, scope on me, f*ck it i’m losin it

ah-hahhhh! uh, yeah, yo
i did it my way, lights off on the highway
greek statues on both sides of the driveway
word to the stamps on the diesel
the way these n*gg*z is lookin either they got cramps or they evil
one go we all go, d-boy fresh but hard dough
cashmere and suede cargoes
on top of the beige wallo’s
45 government edition clippers, straight hollows
my (clientele) is (supreme) and it’s proven
that i’m (only built 4 the link) if it’s (cuban)
i’m a pioneer, i’m not a vet (uh-uh)
“last kiss” is a french one, it’s not a peck (uh-uh)
movin powder, piff and a lot of wet
you’re gonna die, that’s a promise, not a threat
yeah, but i ain’t with the chatterin
cause i’d just rather splatter them
this is a cartel gatherin, what?

/ jadakiss lyrics