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letra de paula deen - tha god fahim

[intro]
yo
i’m the illest and every hater gotta deal with it (deal with it)
that i’m the illest, not n0body else
uh

[chorus]
every gun i get came with a beam
spray the mac like i was wipin’ off the screen (zazazazazazaza)
every gun come extended clip and submachine
this heater cook you up like paula dean
read the source, then empty your magazine
shootin’ n-ggas’ neighborhoods up like movie scenes (zazazaza)
motherf-cker, i’m a microphone fiend
and when it comes to rhymes, i’m the undisputed king (uh)

[verse 1]
i shoot you too close, you might melt
gun come off the hip quick as pootie tang belt
remove your head from your neck, n-gga, it’s all felt
choke you up like papa doc, you need help
gaspin’ for life, b-tch squealin’ like a mice
i strangle mcs out with the wire from the mic
this is godbody diction, seven number sevens
enemies know when i’m comin’, i’m a prehistoric legend
make sure you comin’ with supreme lessons
i done slayed so many dragons that i got a mean message
appreciate your blessings, ’cause you never know
when you might get hit with the signal of the crow (caw)
wisdom of a pro, unlimited ammo
lettin’ these n-ggas know with a grenade in my hand, so
i throw a flashbang; where the cash, king?
i’m robbin’ n-ggas ’cause i never really had things
[chorus]
every gun i get came with a beam (zazazazaza)
spray the mac like i was wipin’ off the screen
every gun come extended clip and submachine
this heater cook you up like paula dean
read the source, then empty your magazine
shootin’ n-ggas’ neighborhoods up like movie scenes
motherf-cker, i’m a microphone fiend
and when it comes to rhymes, i’m the undisputed king

[verse 2]
i’m evil-spirited, ain’t no gettin’ rid of it
yeah, you got a maserati, but you rented it
p-ssy scared to show his f-ckin’ face, so they tinted it
beat your f-ckin’ ass ’til you shakin’ and you shiverin’ (beat your ass, n-gga)
gilligan, let’s see who’s the king of the hill again
feelin’ it, sean carter thinkin’ ’bout a mil’ again
now i’m out f-ckin’ on b-tches that’s brazilian
he ain’t a real plug unless he counted a million (uh)
fake ass thugs and street gangsters
put your f-ckin’ face on the channel two, anchor
heart-breaker, read your mind like charles xavier
dark favors, the undefeated life-taker
dice-shaker, gettin’ so much money they hate ya
i would compensate ya, but rather eliminate ya
no game, no n-gga, this ain’t sega
bullets penetrate ya, and put you underground like a mixtape
f-ck up out my face and get your sh-t straight
nuttin’ in your b-tch face, she suck until her lips ache
dump gawd, motherf-cker, grindin’ like the griptape
f-ckin’ with fahim is a motherf-ckin’ mistake
[chorus]
every gun i get came with a beam
spray the mac like i was wipin’ off the screen (zazazazazazaza)
every gun come extended clip and submachine
this heater cook you up like paula dean
read the source, then empty your magazine
shootin’ n-ggas’ neighborhoods up like movie scenes
motherf-cker, i’m a microphone fiend
and when it comes to rhymes, i’m the undisputed king

- tha god fahim

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