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saga city - tha god fahim lyrics

[these lyrics are intentionally locked and left partial due to a dmca takedown request. please do not edit the lyrics to include the removed sections.]

[verse 1]

[verse 3: tha god fahim]
mic check like nike
my life is cinemax
like a movie from spike lee
i strangle mics since domestic violence
i put my footprint in the game, max payne aim
who shall contest the tyrants?
.380 clip with a maximum capacity, gradually
leave you bl–dy like mary, kate, and ashley
you couldn’t box ‘cause your soul too dense
deport a .50 clip like trump in pence, i’m outta sense
crazy how i paint a portrait
my words wrap around the earth in a circular vortex
my style is pastiche selling
tryna depict this verbal abramelin
laying the casket in a room where your mom and pastor dwelling
smack you like bruce wayne
your favourite rapper got a 100k followers and fake chains
and this b-tch’ll do anything for some wu tang
remind me of a needle in haystacks, she been through things
i sweep rap fanatics off they feet my way
they play my tape and think they got beat by dre
my raps is like michael in ’96
your raps is like phil jackson, when he was coaching the knicks
i come through cappin’ out the ak and you split
there’s more sh-lls clappin’ out the gat and you dip
i’m an animal, tap you on your shoulder- rip your mandible
rappers scared to run into me like crash bandicoot
blast the mechanical, leave you half mechanical
smoking botanical, eating rappers like hannibal’s
i’m like nightmare from soul calibur, hack your life away
on accident but still have the right of way
i never throw nothing i write away
‘cause every bar is cl-ssic, like a student that feel some type of way
like rich homie
i smack the smile off your big homie
and you ain’t gon’ do sh-t homie
i pull a stick homie, caine
menace ii society
bullet in your brain, a body in varieties
just another slain in the name of the prodigy
double crossed, execution juicing, i’m off the lottery
you can’t intimidate, you giving off dead threats
me and my n-ggas own more guns then rednecks
tripods and skulls for giving out lead press
military grade knock your brains through your headrest

- tha god fahim lyrics

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