Zion prod. Ty Fyffe E

Hey Mississippi motherfucker You like rap music? Yeah, I You like rap music? Yeah. Ladies and gentlemen. Eric Sermon. Yeah. Yeah. David Banner, motherfucker. What E, I told you we gonna make these Motherfuckers respect what it is. Uh-huh. What's your name, homie? Mr., Mr. X to the Z. Uh-huh. Uh. Bruh. Let's do it. Sheesh. I spit shit like a floogie, handguns in Hoodies. When the beat talk to me, it's suck Tough to bookie. You can ask King Tookie, A rookie with King T. I took it to new heights, Xzibit is OG. Over gossip, over greed, over gold teeth. I am A5 Wagyu if you ever want beef. I came from a gang of pain and chain Smokers. Stop looking for shit under your seat, I'm not Oprah. I never believe nothing you speak, you're not Sosa Or Scarface. You ain't even a can of King Cobra. Lean over, dumping.45s through the driver's Side. Look on Homicide, what a great day to Be alive. Okay, and hating don't affect my bottom Line. Catch me eight to nine, I'm on Empire Playing Shine. X to the motherfucking Z, R-E-D. The Green-Eyed Bandit, Death Squad, O. B. E. Hit, baseball player when I'm spitting it. Christmas gift rap, everybody's getting it. Mothers, fathers, sons, daughters, Flunkies, scholars, walkers, joggers, Old people, toddlers. Yo, E, I'm the answer. Huh? Avenger, the only rap cat in Black Panther. Check yourself. Bandit, I'm the runner-up. Disrespect and get stretched like a tummy tuck. Say what? The game like, "Help me, Ronda." So I came in like the first responder. A Belinda's child. Huh? I'm raised in the suburbs. Who said there's iller than my squad? That's absurd. Yeah, I feel sorry for you young People. No matter how hot you are now, we Are not equal. Not close. You made a couple of pieces, but no sequel. I'm Magnum, cum laude with this hobby I teach You. I can take a private airplane to Spain. Then turn it back around and land it downtown. Uh-huh. Right in front of Trump Towers, like this World is ours. You suckers, Death Squad, Motherfuckers. Jabba the Hutt, no gut, Each slut say I'm God. E Muhammad, if you die, my first son's named For Rod. For Rod. Yeah. I swear I take care. I'm molesting the trigger, finger-fucking the Hardware. The protector of all Black women, I ain't kidding. Disrespect, I'm swinging at your Face like it's badminton. I'm in the back of the graveyard grinning, you John Lennon. You bleeding out on Abbey Road with Holes in your white linen. I feel like you rap niggas owe me. I was in the kitchen cooking for my tribe Like Jerobeam. But you act like you don't know Me, homie, what the fuck is up? I put four or five holes in your new Bentley truck, bitch, what? My generation wanted to be Pac. If I wanted to be Pac, I'd be the One that shot at white cops. Y'all looking like the opps, so I keep the Thing cocked. And the last thing you hear is When that fucking hammer drop, bitch I don't like To brag no more, this shit is boring. Especially when I'm in a G550 soaring. Over your hood, over your girl, over your whips. Whips. Over your bank, over your chips. Chips. Little dudes walking around like they Gotti. Gotti. OG Shaq D's, Brick City Illuminati. Competition is none, get your level up. Up. Pulling ass muscles, he dead, get your shovel Up. Watch game terrible, get your bezel up. Yep. Diesel Ben Diamond, your ass cubed is zirconia. Yeah. Spit ammonia, about to kill you phony bucks. Bucks. Kut a Cooper with this flow, been had Milwaukee Bucks. Chucks. Shaq's a living legend. Yes. Big daddy Kane on they ass, no half-stepping. No witnesses, no prisoners. Nope, No eavesdrop, it's just death to all Listeners. You die. Make a ghost with the Tommy, Trying to power trip. All I know is get money and know how To flip. If don't like the climate, then I Turn the thermostat. Rob me, call Banner, where's my ass? Dare any baller disrespect the Shaq. Some of y'all act like Ron, but you Wally Szczerbiak. Superman and Hulk will bust him in the Eye. But I don't feel like rapping no more. Bye-bye