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lirik lagu montana of 300 - fge cypher pt. 5

[verse 1: talley of 300]
yeah
to3

im on these n-gg-s necks
like their f-ckin’ heads
and i don’t care what you rep
i’m too much to press
step down and get swept down
like f-ckin’ stairs
leggo my eggo, how i like cuttin’ squares
one click i’ma load a clip, i’m about to go live
get spent like 90 cents, that’s two shots from the 45
that way they can’t drop no dimes, get it?
thats a hunnid n-gg- no lies, like a n-gg- really know god
livin, but the truth said so free and i’m so fly
i walk in a spirit, like i was born a ghost
and i’m no magician, but i’ll get you gone in smoke
dock like you on a boat, see headshots in your horoscope
boy i’m rock like boilin’ c-ke
ever think that you can horn a goat, better realize you on a slope
sh-t’ll go down, like bundles we roll out
red dots on your nose, clown
fireman, you get hosed down
watch you shake like it’s cold out
hail mary on the go route
how we scorin, who runnin’
we always go 100, yeah
and the worst when i catch up believe you like i’m forgettin’ something
and then i get back to my sense, i mean, it’s back to the money
legend on the mic i reserve, then wrap it like a f-ckin’ mummy
and i do it for the ones who love me
and those who came out that muddy
want change, haters get the nickel
thats the thing, it cap for the dummies
see, levelin’ up it’s a specialty
go hard or go home it’s the recipe
i been outcast like a refugee
know that water like i trot the seven seas
so i plan to ball hard in every league
on guard with them clips like i’m beverly
callin’ all the bullsh-t like a referee
and i kick this sh-t off like a special team, squaa

[verse 2: no fatigue]
fge sh-t man, y’all know how squad comin’ man
‘tigue sh-t
i’m at that door like an usher
feel my b-lls like they punctured
it’s no fatigue on the beat
go follow me no instructions
my n-gg-s movin’ with structure
be patient, n-gg-s be rushin’
streets not a game, this ain’t pixel
i hope that you owe us something
just bought some new poles, they came in just like a rookie
if she mine, i don’t trip, i go luscious for my cookie
i’m mighty joe when i’m young, that b-tch wanna f-ck with me
yo b-tch said she want the d, oh, watch out for that tree
i be feelin’ like i’m caesar it ain’t many just like me
smarter than what you think, i get sh-t done in a blink
gotta hit her with that tommy, bring that power where you sleep
r.i.p. prodigy i be with mob, like i’m deep
won’t spend on n-gg-s like linen
flex on ’em from the beginnin’
talkin’ bout hoes on my d-ck, i got a lot like a dealer
he cross me leave him in hot sauce, no i can’t go like i’m blocked off
b-tch i go in like the locks off, hoes try lock me down like i’m popped off
n-gg-s change just like majin buu, up like in china[?]
send him he shootin’ and robbin’ you
first they start jockin’ you then they start mockin’ you
hatin’ and tryna put a stop to you
n-gg-s be lame anyway, step on squares and light ’em up, mj
then i go blow on some mj, this sh-t you hit get the rent paid
she slide me that cookie and i give yo baby d
she up in here tryna mate with me
not in my circle then you get that k on me
do not come get in my way on me
didn’t f-ck with me until i got glow
i cuff that b-tch like the waist on me
i bet them n-gg-s gon’ hate on me
i bet them b-tches gon’ wait on me

[verse 3: $avage]
yeah!
fge sh-t, mob sh-t
you know we run this sh-t

you know what it is, big pimpin’ since a little n-gg-
life’s a gamble, i just get my cards, and i deal with it
shake them haters off, take that sh-t just like a boss
i lost homies i lost money but i never took a loss
comin’ from the jungle with them alligators no lacoste
come through all black like the raiders throwin’ bullets, derek carr
long range, and you b-tches know my name
if you wanna play them games with me
n-gg- you can die, like it’s saw
put them targets on yo jaws, put your brains on the walls
just so i can see that goofy -ss sh-t that you thought
knock you off and beat the case, they catch me i do the race
real sh-t, will smith i’m an enemy of the state
i got hitters in the 8 know they blitzin’ sh-t like the saints
do this sh-t so confidential, knock you off them tinted windows
wash it down return the rental while i’m laughing to the bank
big cash, big gold chain, chrome pistol
fly guy, sub-zero ’cause a n-gg- kicks cold
n-gg-s change, b-tches change, you know how this sh-t go
live fly, if a n-gg- try, put him in the sky
on these beats, ain’t no other n-gg-s eatin’ like mine, squaa

[verse 3: montana of 300]
rap god, fge sh-t man
you already know what it is man
cp5 in this b-tch man

i spit fire like peach dragon
got more game than season p-sses
stay up in expensive sh-t and i ain’t talkin’ caesar’s palace
dress and drip no caesar salad
haters mug ain’t even savage
lookin’ hard no reading gl-sses
easily could lead to caskets
i got this sh-t mastered like leroy
i been in my glo like i’m sho’nuff
these p-ssy n-gg-s got no nuts
these n-gg-s g-yer than gold dust
don’t none of my shooters give no f-cks
for they bread they gon’ pop up with toasters
for that dough they put holes in you, doughnuts
you don’t wanna meet up it ain’t cold cuts
with this draco n-gg- i’m cold as ice
they disrespectful but when i show up i swear they so polite
i ain’t with the talking big choppas on me no overbite
i bet i shoot the cr-p out them b-tches like i was rolling dice
turned ’em into packs, i had to murder me some cats
left big sh-lls on the ground that’s ninja turtles on they backs
b-tch i’m saucy you just salty, i got flavor every season
and i’m ballin’, b-tch i got them blue faces like lance stephenson
i water the seeds that i’ve planted until i’m under earth
i push my son on that court like he jesus shettleworth
some winners fail but don’t be a quitter, there’s nothing worse
possess a hunger so strong that your f-cking stomach hurt
rap god, i’m who they call the man, i’m so fly never gotta walk again
but if i ever do i just bought some land, i take all your b-tches
turn them all to fans
i be saucin’ when i hit the mall with bands
fifty thousand in my jogger pants
keep the green on me like a boston fan
ballin’ with my bros, big baller brand, squaa!

- lirik lagu montana of 300

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