While it seems that no one in the writing establishment took Burroughs' ideas about tape looping very seriously, the music industry was listening with baited breath. Sixty years later, sampling, tape reverse and over-dubbing are standard fare for even the most commercial hip-hop entities. Ghostface is the one of 20-odd members that has shown not only true stay power but the mark of a true storyteller, not just the narrator to a Cadillac commercial. Where others spend songs wandering through their shoe closets like it were the soundtrack for MTV's Cribs, Ghostface is able to discuss the longing for these things with, ironically, the most human face in the rap game.

Here he is in classic breakup mode, focusing the first verse as a reflection on he and his woman's falling out, in the blue-and-white lights of a cop car. He bristles with the betrayal felt when his girl suggests that the officers look in his trunk and check him for warrants. Ghostface tells her that maybe taking him on Jerry Springer was the wrong way to win him back, and he is practically yelling as he recites the way she changed as the money came in. Jackie-O comes in, the voice of Ghostface's girl, on the next verse with apologies and justifications. Calmly, the list of her merits illustrates a loyal wife, who silently dealt with her man's infidelities and bedroom insecurities. She gently reminds the Ghostface who it was that pawned all her rings to bond him out of lockup. Like a patient mother, she tells him to stop this foolishness and get back in the door. The last verses are all sweet sighs and scrape marks on begging bent knee, guess whose knee? The Ghost with the heart of a man.