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letra de fge cypher pt. 8 - montana of 300

[verse 1: talley of 300]
all i know is
bodies like a morgue, tags like a store
if they want a war, b-tch it’s rambo 4
pistols under pillows, pistols in the drawers
though i’m one h-ll of a artist this won’t be a draw
i’m that n-gga like django, tryna let the pain go
withdraws wrapped in them bands like franklin sprained an ankle
i’m hip-hop like a kangol, why these rappers rainbow?
i’m a step up dancer with my ak like the tango
putting n-ggas in they place like -ssigned seats
so f-ckin’ gargoyle, b-tch, i came from the concrete
if i don’t go suit up and release venom from inside me
i’ma put them numbers on your face like a time piece
then go pray ’bout it all, lord they wait on my fall
see, i’ll serve over the net but i don’t play volleyball
these n-ggas stay by the farm, they brought hate to the barn
they wrestlin’ with the pigs, i mean they lay with the law
it’s a cold game like hockey, n-gga
cold world like j.cole and full of false prophets, n-gga
learned that i had to watch what i say from john gotti, n-gga
and that my flow hold power like tsunamis, n-gga
catch the wave, i’m tired, its fge to the grave
but i’m fly, like i been resurrected, i elevate
need my lime like i’m sipping tequila up in the shade
got the juice, but just know the sh-t wasn’t minute made
talley!

[verse 2: no fatigue]
fge in this b-tch man, y’all know how i’m coming
tigue sh-t
i come from the bottom
that’s how i know i’m the sh-t, look in the mirror it’s true
it’s f-ck the law, ’cause they want you cuffed in a cage or your hands crossed in a suit
and f-ck them n-ggas, ’cause you know they feeling the same, but low-key, police too
i’m on a mission, they say it’s impossible, don’t hit the gas, like tom, i cruise
just bein’ patient, see n-ggas hating, yeah, read ’em like articles
watch out for hoes, tryna finesse, f-ck ’em like s-x, they all some fools
think what you wanna, pulling me like a transformer, run up, you gon’ be a goner
sing like madonna, it’s for protection, your honor, mac can be safe like a condom
slide on that condom, i beat that p-ssy like ronda, we in here hot like a sauna
she said i’m different, just like genres, and you can’t see me, just like wakanda
i’m raw, undertaker, brock lesnar, duane johnson
i don’t care what your response is, i go third quarter klay thompson
i remember flipping packs, on the phone like an app
i need paper, even scr-ps, ain’t no time to relax
bumpy road i fell off like a n-gga had collapsed
broskie ‘n them, had my back, hold me down like a snap
bad breaks how i grind, stolen watch, it take time
longer than it take five, hope you hit, waistline
k!lling beats, jason, it’s the f-cking eighth time
and you n-ggas really b-tches, talking like a date line
yeah, i’m a fly guy, shorty, come f-ck with the real
pop it like a pill, she gon’ let me bend and drill
96′ chevy, keep a stick behind the wheel
packer, on that green bay just like the field
squa-

[verse 3: wuntayk timmy]
yeah
clique clan
fge sh-t, n-gga
yeah
yo
(wuntayk timmy)
let me end all the rapping debate
i’m the one with the capital take
n-ggas ain’t have what it takes, i gave ’em a hand and got slapped in the face
now i got racks in the safe and a otter box, no more crackin’ the case
anybody ever got in my way is roadk!ll, i ain’t having no brakes
hoes still don’t be acting they age, i’m getting neck in the back of the range, from two hoes
that’s dracula fangs, i’m cujo to a cat in a cage, they lyin’ in they bars
it’s the alignin’ of the stars, sh-t i heard that’s what it take
you a rat in a cage, i’m a rattle a snake, cut the gr-ss low, i keep a bag in the wait
i’m an -ssh0l-, when i ask ’em to pay but the cash flow all that matters today
in the field with the sack, i’m attackin’ today in the field with the bag and threw flag on the play
i’m the illest with rap and the last of the great, prettiest man with a tat on my face
two ks, nah, we ain’t finna play, keep each artist a strap in the waist
no habla, i’m with a chicana, the p-ssy is aqua, i hear the chihuahua
the lady a gaggle, the baby a gaga, she calling me daddy, she hated her father
you n-ggas be acting, i ain’t with the drama, the tool in my jacket’s what make it a bomber
the dudes in the back with me made me a monsta, i may be a b-st-rd but thanks to my mama i’m calmer
’cause mama seen a few black empires and my pop a weasel, like jack-in-box
’bout to find a diva with with some apple stock, apple on her back like a macintosh
clique clan, know i got the socks, throw the boots on and the camoflauge
silencers make the loudest shots say, “tss-tss”, we don’t shadow box
real sh-t, n-ggas cap a lot, talking big sh-t, that’s caps lock
n-gga this sh-t like crack rock, ’cause if you ’bout me you hit the jackpot
’cause my team got it padlocked, be the star player or the mascot
throw the mask on, take the last shot now the money growing it’s a cash crop
n-gga
haha
tayk
cique clan
fge sh-t

[verse 4: montana of 300]
rap god of g sh-t, you already know what it is man
thinking about my kids, that’s what motivates me and and wakes me up
immune to satisfaction, can’t less success make me lazier
my son just facetimed me, i told him, “i’m on my way to ya”
that .40 cal be on me whenever i pick my babies up
i’m balling while i’m schooling them, i’m professor xavier
i don’t play no games on these tracks, this ain’t a stadium
your homies gonna scramble as soon as i tom brady ya
i’m why they r-i-pin’ they shirts like hulkamania
slide down on ’em with two sticks like i’m skiin’
forty hold the d-ck when it aim, like its peein’
i will cook a n-gga, it don’t matter the season
don’t talk beef if you ain’t tryna meet like a vegan
like fake lashes, i got these b-tches eyes glued
they ain’t the truth, ain’t you tired of being lied to?
life’s a roller coaster, who told your -ss that this ride’s smooth?
you say its god’s plan, but then put yourself up in god’s shoes?
why would i send my message through men who can twist up letters?
why would i let my kids get raped when i could switch the lever?
why would i send my kids to burn when i got somethin’ better?
why would i sacrifice my son when i can have whatever?
my lyrics thunder, they make ’em wonder “did god write this?”
’cause every joint that i drop tighter than arthritis
the ungrateful’s too young to be catchin’ alzheimer’s
you disrespectin’, you get the coffin, no bronchitis
god!

- montana of 300

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