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[Bridge: Tha God Fahim]
N***as love the style man
Tell the truth n***a
This some fly shit n***a
You know what I'm sayin'?
N***as don't even know what to do with the wave
N***as love the style n***a
We got all kinda shit, all kinda ways to come at you n***as
You know what I'm sayin', that ill shit, that raw shit n***a
You know you love this shit, don't front
Know you love the style
It's Tha-motherfuckin'-God!
Yo

[Verse 2: Tha God Fahim]
I'm cooking again, you can't copy, I'm cooking again
Like Emeril Lagasse, season the broccoli
Got hangovers
We sipping on flamethrowers, Molotov cocktails
Crimson fabric on the dinner table
I'm cooking like Bronson on cable
Crush red peppers on the tile with the bagels
You the type of n***a get fed under the table, you's a animal
I pin the nail on the tail then hammer you
You're mind-boggled
Shinobi eye night vision goggles
Steady looking for triggers to toggle
I never graduated, schools I hated, mics get mutilated
Compare my style to aromatics
Masses awaited my return
Shrouded in gold, bedazzled clothes got my shining like Sierra Leone
Plot I come for your dome
Ammo fly through your home
Should've left me alone, muh'fucka
[Outro: Tha God Fahim]
You know, it's Tha-motherfuckin'-God, n***a
Mach-Hommy, n***a
We cooking again
We cooking again
I said, we cooking again
I said, we cooking again
We cooking again
All you fuck-ass n***as, man
I'm out