lirik lagu mar$ gram – shotta flow [week #8]
i am the king, i am the god of this sh-t, beef with me you are not promised to live, b-mping that biggie n pac in the whip earning all of my stripes you are not as legit burning all of the mic’s that i touch with a scorch-ing flow why u acting surprised b-tch of course it makes perfect sense guess this’ll word it best it’s about time that the legends here gimmie the torch ima carry it this sh-ts about to get very lit, life is a b-tch n still i had to marry it, shoot at my targets with bars i can barley miss fruits of my labor i dare you to cherry pick, sh-t, i wish that one of you would, too bad that none of you could, try to take something of mine what your puffing on musta just f-cked with your mind lil b-tch, you ain’t ready for the real sh-t ima snap n start attacking then your getting k!lled quick, grab the gat or we can rap but you ain’t got the sk!lls b-tch ima have to take em’ back em’ to cl-ss like a field trip god d-mn, mar why u finna do em greasy put it on my life man this sh-t is too easy only 4 years in the game plus just in the last 12 months i finished 2 cds woah, i get all the writing credits, i been here trying to get it, came from the bottom lived life as a peasant n now ima die like a legend, gucci gang gucci gang counterfeits, dead n gone tell em’ all how it is, please don’t make me go down the list you’ll never you’ll never ever amount to this, this is the shotta flow, nle choppa you know that it’s time to blow, they see me shining more bright than diamond glow, tryna be great can’t relate the common folks, i made it possible f-ck any obstacles ima make sure that they hear me across the globe i come up clutch every time that the odds are low but i get high enough i can watch god below me, you see me ball like kobe, you what we call a phony, stacking up chips cause i keep all that green on the side i need guacamole, you brought your homies but they ain’t gon’ do nothing other than stand there n watch, answering cops like tekashi it’s sad that these rappers have standards that dropped, got hammers that pop, like wack a mole rappers know not to be f-cking with me, the world soon’ll drop to it knees like your girls who’s a thot she be f-cking with me up in the lead now who’s gonna catch me, who the one running this sh-t like a track meet, who’s gonna come with the grits to out rap me, all i hears a buncha crickets exactly this is the max speed, that you can’t reach, haven’t even added in the turbo, me i keep it rapping he won’t be distracted you can see the talents in my journal f-ck what you heard tho an inferno happens when i rap i’m spitting flames kicking back i’m chilling sipping on this merlot, look at all the magic that i made, cash n then the fame, traffic in the way remember all the times you practiced in the rain my p-ssion gives a rush i’ll p-ss em’ in the lane mar$ gram coming crashing in the game
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