[Intro: Ghostface Killah]
Yeah, that's right
It's not a Hardy Boy mystery neither
This is real shit
This shit come on right after Hart to Hart y'all
No doubt, seven o'clock Fantasy Island
This episode is "Death to a Brooklyn Man"
And this is Tony's Angels, aiyyo
[Verse 1: Ghostface Killah]
It was three white bitches who worked for Tony Starks
Undercover agents, far beyond narcs
Amazed by their beauty marks, Wonder Woman bracelets
Knee-high boots that was made by Clarks
My dick got hard at how they spoke and shit
Every language was music to the kid as if
I was modern day King Midas
Doreen, Skye and Kelly, Starky's Angels, Shaolin's finest
Though it happened in the streets of Brooklyn
Plus I played the whip real low cause my face was woofin'
My Angels jetted out of Albee Square, gun out, wrap in their hair
Kinda crowded so they clapped in the air
Chased a nigga down block for block, squeezing Glocks
These mommies real angels, took one off his top
He's a rapist, murderer, convict, burglar
The more they ran, the more their skirts got dirtier
Sending shots like check day, FedEx expressway
Boom bow bing, you heard the gunplay
"Who shot that duck out the window", Mr. Lee said
"Three pay now, you fucking weed head"
We can stop the finest suspect, he's dead
Then I pulled up, "Come on girls to Club Med"
Yeah, that's right
It's not a Hardy Boy mystery neither
This is real shit
This shit come on right after Hart to Hart y'all
No doubt, seven o'clock Fantasy Island
This episode is "Death to a Brooklyn Man"
And this is Tony's Angels, aiyyo
[Verse 1: Ghostface Killah]
It was three white bitches who worked for Tony Starks
Undercover agents, far beyond narcs
Amazed by their beauty marks, Wonder Woman bracelets
Knee-high boots that was made by Clarks
My dick got hard at how they spoke and shit
Every language was music to the kid as if
I was modern day King Midas
Doreen, Skye and Kelly, Starky's Angels, Shaolin's finest
Though it happened in the streets of Brooklyn
Plus I played the whip real low cause my face was woofin'
My Angels jetted out of Albee Square, gun out, wrap in their hair
Kinda crowded so they clapped in the air
Chased a nigga down block for block, squeezing Glocks
These mommies real angels, took one off his top
He's a rapist, murderer, convict, burglar
The more they ran, the more their skirts got dirtier
Sending shots like check day, FedEx expressway
Boom bow bing, you heard the gunplay
"Who shot that duck out the window", Mr. Lee said
"Three pay now, you fucking weed head"
We can stop the finest suspect, he's dead
Then I pulled up, "Come on girls to Club Med"
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