[Intro]
"Am I a good man? ..."
[Verse 1: Ghostface Killah]
Take my hands out my pockets you can see my thumbs
Both of them turned green from counting the ones
Memorized by the glory, word life
Cut off niggas who killed good but couldn't do nothing for me
Shout 'em out every once in the blue
And kid yo, I never rocked with
Long as they keep away, we cool
I devised my own stimulus plan, I'm nigga-rich
I'm tired of eating those crumbs and black licorice
To free my mind on Friday, I cleanse in the mosque
Let the imam pray over my head and wash
Thoughts, sterilized, purified, Godly
Watch his gift manifest the green like barley
If that shit happen I'll feed his whole army
Talking 'bout the angels and peeps in Somali
Try to stay humble and swallow my pride
In God I trust, not talkin' 'bout the ones on your five
Crisp dollar billing, catch me in a little hut in Benin
Village style, feeding the children
Big pots of jasmine tea with Mandela
Africans chanting me on like Coachella
Ghostface Bumaye, Kumbaya my Lord
My death day, 24 karat tomb I lay
Wishing they could bury me next to the prophets
Nabi, Lut, Is'a, Musa, Hadrat Muhammad, Ibrahim
"Am I a good man? ..."
[Verse 1: Ghostface Killah]
Take my hands out my pockets you can see my thumbs
Both of them turned green from counting the ones
Memorized by the glory, word life
Cut off niggas who killed good but couldn't do nothing for me
Shout 'em out every once in the blue
And kid yo, I never rocked with
Long as they keep away, we cool
I devised my own stimulus plan, I'm nigga-rich
I'm tired of eating those crumbs and black licorice
To free my mind on Friday, I cleanse in the mosque
Let the imam pray over my head and wash
Thoughts, sterilized, purified, Godly
Watch his gift manifest the green like barley
If that shit happen I'll feed his whole army
Talking 'bout the angels and peeps in Somali
Try to stay humble and swallow my pride
In God I trust, not talkin' 'bout the ones on your five
Crisp dollar billing, catch me in a little hut in Benin
Village style, feeding the children
Big pots of jasmine tea with Mandela
Africans chanting me on like Coachella
Ghostface Bumaye, Kumbaya my Lord
My death day, 24 karat tomb I lay
Wishing they could bury me next to the prophets
Nabi, Lut, Is'a, Musa, Hadrat Muhammad, Ibrahim
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