Tracy Morgan lyrics

by

Earl Sweatshirt


[These lyrics are intentionally locked and left partial due to a DMCA takedown request. Please do not edit the lyrics to include the removed sections.]

[Intro]

[Verse 1: Tha God Fahim]
Respect my handle n*gga
'Bout to start pulling up in Lambos n*gga
And turn on the TV, I'm on your channel n*gga
I'm rocking gold nuggets, you see them hoes love it
If you say you gettin' to the money let me hold somethin'
Open the safe and watch the cash bust out
What the lust 'bout? Real n*ggas take the tough route
Blow the dust out, of the ancient books of my ancestors
Next to that, the blicky laying on the stand dresser
f*ck, I got little to no sympathy
When I die they gon' remember me just like it's ten of me
Enemies, might as well engrave me in they memories
Penalties, just know you pus*y n*ggas ain't as real as me

[Bridge]

[Verse 2: Tha God Fahim]
I'm riding dolo n*gga
With Fendi, Gucci, Prada, Polo, n*gga
Luxury silk, all on the logo n*gga
I'm an assassin n*gga
I execute you with the Magnum n*gga
I can't really see how you could fathom n*gga, ugh
I'm shaking dice with my comrades
While you broke as f*ck, on ya last dime bag
Where your rhymes at? Flip you like a lineback
Why you flexing? I could buy you out your contract
I'm like the modern day Rakim
A hunnit tapes, there's nobody can stop him
In the booth, I'm like Money May
In the studio I'm thinking 'bout a 100k
I'm gettin' paid like a hunnid ways
Rocking more chains than a boat of slaves
You n*ggas got me f*cked up
Come 2019, I'm finna truck up
[Outro]
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