[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'