[Intro: Talley of 300]Yeah, TO3Yeah[Verse 1: Talley of 300]Body after body all I know is murder, I'm from the darksideIf I have to draw, serve like volleyball, and drop it on y'all sideThat's why I try hard to not get involved, and stay under God's lieWhen I promise tomorrow just saw at their face, and pray for the lost eyesNigga's playing games with this shitWhy I'm hopin brains will get hitI target minds, I ain't talkin' shellsBut I really aim in this spitWhat's your direction, nigga?Do you know where you heading, nigga?Hope it's to the cheddar, niggaThen the heaven nigga, or whateverBut can't be around me if you don't want better, niggaYeah I know I'm ahead of nigga'sAnd I don't embellish, niggaI try not to embarrass nigga'sBut sometimes I can't help it, it's not in my characterIt's just God's will that he carry with himAnd you know that my berry with themCase the hate get too real, it's okay, get buried with themI will not Tom and Jerry with themCherry pick em, and drop every top that get hairy with himI should thank God I ain't kickin' in doors no moreEmptying poles no more50's on the road doe hoeIt ain't nothing to blow your showBut I'm in it to go get the cashGive and get the love tryin' to reach the fansMotivate they plansGive em what I canGive em to the manHopin' they advanceCuz with no delay I'm goneI'm grown, I'm glowin'If it's war bitch, then I'm blowin'No rims nigga, I'm scorin'My wings up bitch, I'm soarin'FGE poppin', that's cornAnd they knowingWe got it fucking going on, that's porn, nigga[Intro: $avage]FGE shitMob shit, manMob! It's $avage![Verse 2: $avage]I'm the nigga with the wingsAnd I lift em up, middle fingers upTo the PPD, 309 pistol county where I'm fromSip a lotta leanRoll a lotta gas, do a lotta drugsIf I want ya boys bands, I hit him upIt'll be 2k, that'll split him upCall my nigga RealI'mma get the back, you go get the frontBandannas like Montana's over my face when I hit em upRoll on em like AlabamaOnce I up seven better give it upLike a 6-4Drop his top then put em in the trunkBetter get lowFore the fifth blowBlowin big dro36 O'sShout out big moeThat my big broMomma told me how these nigga's switch thoughKeep a big a poleWith extendosLike a joystickOn NintendosLike I'm workin in the drive throughGive it to em right through the windowChopper sprayBodies dropNiggas ride awayWhere I'm from its the slums, niggaGet theyself fucked up a lotta waysI ain't saying that you gotta prayBut I seen it coming like a mile awayI'm just saying what I got to sayProlly not todayBut every motherfucker got a day[Intro: J-Real]Yeah, y'all know how I'm rockin, bitchJ-Real, uh, 15[Verse 3: J-Real]Picture me rollin like 2PacOut the window blowin two GlocksPullin up like tube socksWith more ratchets than a toolboxAin't a rapper, bitch I'm a shooterYour bitch, she gonna suck like a loserSlug me up like looter'sThen it's back gettin that mulah, yeahTip toe to that cashTill that front doorThen it's kick doorWhile I grip pole for that cashHell no I don't need no maskNigga's hoes, they already knowThey don't want me up foldin em on that assIn that 4-door with the 4-0Hop out blowin' at they assActing like I never had shitCuz I never, ever, had shitAnd after every show I got a bad bitchTouching on me like a tabletYeah, that bitch she on meShe just prolly wanna meet TonyBut you know the rulesGotta meet broskiThen broski and broskiYeah[Intro: No Fatigue]You know you gotta do broski 'nemIt's No FatigueY'all can remember this, too[Verse 4: No Fatigue]Blowin' powerpuff with these bitches niceSugar with the spiceI'mma get em rightComing from the bottom like some fucking iceSee the green clear like a fuckin' SpriteWhen I hit the booth it don't be nothin' niceAnd bitches want the D, I got a couple hypesThey gonna let me hit like a bunch of likesWhen she throw it back like a bunch of hikesTell bud he better be wiser before he get hit in his six packRight up the can, yeah, sip thatThat'll make a pussy nigga sit backHe can get the forty like he bet a dubHe can get the forty like he bet on oneI bet I be hotter if he bet the sunHad to branch off from the separate onesSee that boy ridin' like a street sign?We gon' give that pussy boy a peace signAll these bitches want me like iPhonesTell her slide on me, I need iHomeIn your ho's-tel, no room bStill slidin', no room keyYour bitch suck like they boo-ingNigga's mad at me like oooo-weeeYoung boy cool like the 3-CsMet a pretty girl with the 3-BsSpray in his house like fa-breezeMask on, nigga can't see meI don't rock with niggas cuz they offbeatI be talkin' money, nigga's talk cheapI be in her mouth like false teethThen I'm in between like flossingRoll up smoking with these BsI hit that bitch in the eveShe shake it like tambourineI just had to hit and runHope she don't say please when I leaveI ball, I pull up like a sleeveHer pussy pink like that leanTouchin' my chest cuz I'm kingShe wanna search just like BingNow that bitch got what she needBallin', but not in the league'Tigue[Intro: Montana of 300]Rap God, FGE shitYou already know how we comin', manBases loaded in this bitchUhuuuhh[Verse 5: Montana of 300]Fire in the churchThere's liars in the churchScratch the surface, find a diamond in the dirtYou gotta grind until it hurtsI am triumphed and diversedFlow rare, unfair, might start a riot with this verseI will father like Mufasa 'til I'm lyin' in the hearseDrive your lioners berzerkI see clients in my merchOk, I'm breaded bitchYou know I'm breaded like mozzarella sticksGodly, how is he heaven sent but so devilish?The coldest flow, colder than any Eskimos ever beenWas sellin' shitI served for 8 years, I felt like the presidentBeen nailin' shitYou'll get off tonight like you workin' second shiftWings up, all praise to the merciful and beneficentI second guess the messageThe truth ain't never pleasantThe future's present hip-hop's alive and resurrectedPlay with me and I'm airin' oppsIt get's uglier than Carrot TopLeave her pussy bloody like it's cherry poppedSix feet deep, three pair of socksPut em in the ground, that's deep rootedWe keep winnin', y'all keep losin'We don't twitter beef, bitch we shootin'All kinda clips, come preview itThis clip in my ak got 50 in it, that's G-UnitGot another clip with a hundred roundsThat got mo' in it, that's 3 StoogesPlus 30 in my Dez EagleTurn em into red peopleWhack em while their jewelry onNigga, icy dead peopleGlock sing when the mops ringLay em down first like a box springHad to sauce on em like some hot wingsWe be goin in like a swat teamSquah!
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