Styles P – Ghosted You

Fresh drop “Ghosted You” puts Styles P back in the mix on a lean boom bap setup where the words carry the entire load around the theme of walking away clean. He stays locked on the idea of ghosting as standard operating procedure and never strays far from it.

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Lyrics for “Styles P – Ghosted You”:

Styles P:

Every now and then, you know,
These flows cut from that claw.
They deserve it.
It’s simply ghetto beautiful, you know.

You know it and I’m outstanding.
Whoever think they better than Ghost, that’s outlandish.
Bang pow, right in the kisser.
Random ask them how they feel about me, can’t stand them.
I was really trying to relax, but now I’m with the shits.
I’m really trying to relapse.
Who want to bang with me? You really trying to collapse.
This a lyrical race, I’m running lyrical laps. 
Give me a second, give me a minute.
I’m at his crib, windows is tinted.
Should I hit the safe, everything in it?
Come through the hard bars, probably make the Guinness.
I ain’t going to kill this nigga, he been finished. 
Leather in the Porsches softer than thin linen.
Charlie Sheen shit duh been winning, stack of smoke shit.
Nigga been sinning.

I ghosted you, I ghosted you.
I don’t give a fuck, that’s what I’m supposed to do.
Handle it, nigga, it is culpable.
What the fuck else is a ghost to do?

Jumping on everybody, spilling on anybody.
Do this shit for free or maybe a penny probably.
You can give me work and put me in any lobby.
Shopping like Benihana, popping like Abu Dhabi. 
We can talk numbers. You running the data by me.
No, I drop science. You running the matter by me.
You should make an article. I break down the particles.
Come back in God form, homie. That is gottable.
Miracle lethal weapon, homie. I’m unstoppable.
My reflection is turning gold.
Spirit is getting bright. I’m getting right.
I’m gifted. I’m the one they sent straight at the crossroads.
I can shoot an arrow, not using a crossbow.
I can hit your soul, not touching your torso.
Told you what I think, my nigga, I thought so.
Fuck about your journey unless it was off-road.  

I ghosted you, I ghosted you.
I don’t give a fuck, that’s what I’m supposed to do.
Handle it, nigga, it is culpable.
What the fuck else is a ghost to do?

Every twenty four. Know my third eye. Keep an eighth close.
Yeah, nigga, it’s Space Ghost.
Zip too. Six gears up in this bitch when I skip through.
Yeah, I so crack my nigga but then slip through.
Used to keep working the kennel under the pitbull.
Feeling real blessed. It’s all the best I could wish you.
Don’t get killed for a couple dollars, a fist full.

I ghosted you, I ghosted you.
I don’t give a fuck, that’s what I’m supposed to do.
Handle it, nigga, it is culpable.
What the fuck else is a ghost to do?