Style P – The Ghost lyrics

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Spend a day with the ghost baby
Get the understandin'
I'm like a shadow

I'm the ghost of this shit for all the spirits I possess
All the voices I be hearin', shit I'm feelin' in my chest
I could ghost through your walls and flow through your soul
When it comes to the streets dog I give this shit my all and
If I'm not grabbin' y'all, lift you in a sign then
I'm a Sagitarius, the magician is my tarot card
David is my first name but love it if you break it down
I'm a real nigga, I'm a hug you if you break it down
Styles is my last name meaning the expression of art
I guess why I'm just blessed with the heart
And they call me Holiday, I'm a let the blanks fill in
I call myself that 'cause I was born on Thanksgiving
11-28-74
Snatch you, will I break bread with niggas that was ghetto or poor
P. short for Paniro, that's a mixture of Robert or Al
But I ain't actin' with a llama, I'm wild

Here's why they call me the ghost
I'm half alive, half dead, and when it's beef I bring all of the toast
I'm the ghost of this shit, I provide you fluid
That'll crack the sidewalks and rise the sewers

Hey yo, I can see my son in my face
Am I foul 'cause I pray when I'm high or with a gun on my waist
Gots to ride for the criminals, die for the generals
My ghost'll be around for my bicentennial
Y'all better do the article
'Cause when I'm dead I ain't really gon' die, I'm gon' break down to particles
Probably too deep to blow
When I sleep I leave earth and come back, y'all can't peep the ghost
It's like I make niggas shiver and think
I'm so deep that if water tried to listen then the rivers'll sink
And y'all niggas can't walk with me, I'm on some different shit
I can't explain it but I hear the clouds talk to me
It's sort of like the weed in a dutch, you wouldn't understand
So I stay quiet not leavin' you much
It's about time I even it up, I knock your spirit out
Holiday to Ghost gettin' greasy as fuck

Here's why they call me the ghost
I'm half alive, half dead, and when it's beef I bring all of the toast
I'm the ghost of this shit, I provide you fluid
That'll crack the sidewalks and rise the sewers

I vow to hold my niggas down, bust my gun, pay the bail
Get the weed, get the liquor, dog I'm just a lick of styles
Lyrically I'm somethin' else, hardest out of nothin' else
Before you think I'm bitch you better all try to fuck yourself
Mr. Paniro and, mixed with a pharoe and
Got cold hearted when I started movin' heroin
Robbed more shit than Billy the Kid
You think you're nicer than the P you the silliest kid
It's like I'm better off poppin' ya
When I flow I got a formula in styles sort of like a philosipher
Y'all start borrowin' lessons
'Cause rap without me is like the gods without the stars and the crescents
I don't rap my niggas, I spit bars and baptize niggas
Pull guns and kill half-sized niggas
You heard about the Holy Ghost and took it for lies
Next time you see Paniro just look in his eyes nigga

Here's why they call me the ghost
I'm half alive, half dead, and when it's beef I bring all of the toast
I'm the ghost of this shit, I provide you fluid
That'll crack the sidewalks and rise the sewers