lirik lagu tha god fahim - infinate clipz
[verse 1: tha god fahim]
uh
i c~ck gauges
never just stock, i add lasers
soon as the muzzle pop, make you enter the dark ages
souffléin’ rappers like salt bae
dead bodies in the walkway; i’m comin’ from a dark place
hold the fort down like knox
if we box and you slip and you block, my glock splits stalks
they bringin’ me checks for me to sign my hitchc~ck
kick rocks if i ain’t the highest on the list (stop)
fake thug, no love ’cause you a b~tch, though
you wanna sh~t~throw? i’m puttin’ hands on n~ggas like i’m klitschko
better dip low; around this dragon’s lair, tip~toe
the wrist glow like church windows
make a nympho out your widow
fahim’s style is rougher than a brillo
you’ll get more shеlls than armadillo
got more cars than jay leno
ain’t tryna hear anothеr rapper demo
get the memo, this sh~t is not a riddle
who hated as i’m? the greatest, but he waited his time
took a hiatus, never faded in shine, uh
i must admit, i got blood on my hands
’cause every time i clutch the mic, i really feel i got a gun in my hand (that’ll never jam)
give you thirty inches of rain, i’m the weatherman; ks in the caravan
spent time in the badlands, lightning bolt stats, got fast hands
legend has it, in the studio, a madman
i’m showin’ symptoms; which emcee gon’ be my next victim?
so i can flip ’em, put more holes in ’em than the system
don’t plan to miss ’em, it’s just missiles
and magazine issues; you’ll never know what hit you
[verse 2: planet asia]
take turns to carve a caption
this is target practice, black ops
call of duty movie out in madagascar
all hail the motherland, my feet is in the soil
my breakfast was a bowl of fruit, the scenery was royal
this the chosen; silk from a spider, woven
my title golden; the science i apply is from a higher voltage
the diagnosis came back
that my catalog consists of the most realest and the flyest vocals
act like it’s up, the gods might approach you
[?] jaabbar
j~a~a~b~b, a~r, 15s, clack~clack
set~trippin’, fade~catchin’
middle~of~the~page session, get your blade tested
got auntie on my cajonas (ow)
b~tches be [?] like confiscated belongings ([?])
double ls up (yeah) for all my lo life n~ggas that like to steal and sell stuff
get your mail up
i turn rappers to merch, fry ’em like orange roughy and perch
’cause i don’t sip promethazine or pop percs
for every block, turf, trap house to gamble spot
for all the spots you’re not allowed to have a camera out
it’s all love, just don’t be [?] out, cruisin’ through
this how you get found left, bein’ delusional
the combo you been waitin’ for, the shower posse uzi crew
back the f~ck up, because we movin’ through, beautiful
n~ggas know what it is: the mothaf~ckin’ usual
don’t make me shoot at you (bloh bloh bloh bloh bloh!)
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