Tha God Fahim
Meglodon Rhyme Writer
Uh, uh, uh, uh
You gotta redefine print, examine the details
Cut the nonsense, some handling retail
And you can get rich, and end up like Ezell
Strung out on drugs, with nothing to prevail
I'm trying to get the m's like Brandon Kane
We into finer things
Rings, watches, and designer chains
Try to put you on connect, but I'm out of range
Getting green thumbs counting checks for my hunger pains
Nowadays like we living in The Hunger Games
So I'm pondering my thoughts, thinking of the Mother plane
Just wait until my next tape drop, for when the market crash, I got a lot of skate plots
Can never understand why they hating', take shots
I executed plans in the artist straight drop
I keep precious medals laying on my shoulder blades
Stepping out the BM like I'm coming out the golden age
Fly comets while I'm surfing in the nebulon
In these times of chaos, watch it for the Decepticons
In everything we do is upper echelon
Guess that's why they bite the style like the Megalodon
Still young but they label me a veteran
Far from the days of me trapping at the Chevron
I'm on a telethon, encore carry on
You a sophomore and I'm a senior in this marathon
I got handles like hot sauce, I blew a bag on the hot sauce, cause I don't like knock offs
And if the weather right, I'ma let the top off
The streets [?] for metal rain, God forbid it pop off, pop off
Hit my dog Mach for the drop off
Homie art dealer like a dealer getting rocks off
Wood scars and graffiti on the canvas
Everything omitted is inscribed in mathematics
Peep the status, I ran with street democratics
The school of hard bank and on the door of Illmatic
[Outro]
Ain't no one never going to stay in one spot forever
That's a sucker
I'm a hustler
I'm a come up
So I took what little bit he gave me
And doubled up, and doubled up, and doubled up
And I've been doubling since