[Intro: Tha God Fahim]
Where you come from with this motherf**er, man
[?]
Then you get flat-lined n***a
Talking sh** and sh** n***a
Yeah
[Verse 1: Tha God Fahim]
Ain't no escape from negativity, [?] misery
I pop this gat off make you a mystery
Foul penalty my rap chemistry, raw wizardry
A simile we simply show no sympathy to the enemy or adversary
Hazardous beef sh** is hereditary
My old block like the first of January
My fam told me to chill, I used to get ill on dark hills
Cause one day is one meal
I can't go no-f**ing-where without the smack in my jeans
Chew sh** up like a fiend and pray to supreme being
If a n***a like me really got beef, whats human anatomy to your brain cells laid out in the street
n***a I wear the burden of knowledge, without college so pay homage
I sprayed the ma** turn you to a gas from a solid
My man on the Ave. Steady wylin', bodies pylin'
A n***a been wantin' to throw the towel in
[Hook: Tha God Fahim]
My mom told me she sick and done
But I'm a grown a** man f** it I started cryin'
I feel the devil trying to make me one of his targets
Today's light can be tomorrow's darkness, cold heartless
The murder rate goin' up... what the f**
n***a ran out of luck, his spot got touched
Don't get touched, Smith-Wess steady blastin'
So my Glock's be steady pa**in'
[Verse 2: Tha God Fahim]
Another day up-out this sh**
Chain in the ice is glist-less
Got a n***a shot for Christmas
sh** is all evil
Bullets eatin' through your cotton-mouth, bald Weevil
And take chances at the casino
And shoot Cee-lo, my heart is seventy below
A bad b**h name Cleo...
Patra, keep gat's for stature
You disrespect Tha God and she showing your blood plasma
f** the pastor, make me wanna merk a ba*tard
The shots blastin', making motherf**ers Casper
But the cops askin': "Who the f** did the murder?"
Stash the burner, want beef I'll serve ya
[Hook: Tha God Fahim]
My mom told me she sick and done
But I'm a grown a** man f** it I started cryin'
I feel the devil trying to make me one of his targets
Today's light can be tomorrow's darkness, cold heartless
The murder rate goin' up... what the f**
n***a ran out of luck, his spot got touched
Don't get touched, Smith-Wess steady blastin'
So my Glock's be steady pa**in'