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Smooth Sailing
Solomon Childs

SOLOMON CHILDS


Smooth Sailing Lyrics

[Ghostface Killah:]
Yo, behind those mahogany walls
Indoor pools with steel doors, flipping eggs over in my silk drawers
While I"m charging my cell, sparking the L
Baby mother reading my mail, just that they switched seats
To another jail, and his banger is old fire
He's locked up with them dudes from the f*cking Wire
That's when I passed her the bone, started to cough
And flossed all through the house, robe on, ruger out
Homebuyers see the sign, yeah ya'll, I'm moving out
In front of the crib, niggas flipped, I had to shoot it out
Thirty G, living room sets, porcelain plates
With big giant wall units, even the front grass
Saw your boy doing it, Tone Stark he'll never fall
I even put work in, under the floor
In the box with the ox, and my skeleton jaw
Tell 'em soldiers I'm in the bush if the President call

[Chorus: Solomon Childs]
Get 'em, the'll be nothing but smooth sailing
When the heat shot, now your crew's bailing
I refuse to bow down, refuse to lay down
Go five and turn, to let the biz, all I found

[Solomon Childs:]
Where the f*ck is the kids crown?
Lady luck breathing all over the dikes
With 745 airlines, the color of Cajun rice
This the passion of Christ, done seen it and felt it all
Til rats shit in my boots, like how the f*ck the rats get in my boots
A brown metal that sizzles, wrap up more dead meat then riddles
Injuries that have you missing more games than Kerry Kittles
There's a war going on outside, you hear the fiddles?
And you so called 'units', go 'head and jump
And get your body severed apart with pumps

[Trife Diesel:]
Aiyo, watch who you talk around, cause ya'll seen niggas snitching
And they quick to turn on you like keys in the ignition
Niggas start submitting, when them slugs is spitting
And believe me, that shit'll hurt like when your drugs is missing
Yo, these bullets ain't thug resistant, and they see a nigga dying
Choking off his own blood is sickening
Picture that, now picture this, picture me running in your lab
Like Allen Iverson waving the fifth
But this ain't no domestic dispute, go 'head and get cute
Force my hand, and see if I'm connected with loot
Somebody gon' find your body on the stitching of the roof
The art of gunplay, I stay perfected when I shoot
And this ain't a lottery, but ya'll dudes can 'take seven'
The slugs'll have your ass 'burning up' like Faith Evans
Facial expressions change when you're facing that weapon
Nigga, your ass gon' die, try to escape within sessions

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these lyrics are submitted by kaan
Songwriter(s): Clifford Smith, Walbert Ryan Dale, Walter B. Sigler, Patrick Charles, Tyrone Gregory Fyffe, Dennis David Coles

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