
memento mori - tha god fahim lyrics
[intro: tha god fahim]
[?]
it’s not—it’s not, uh, doin’ it no more
nah
check it
uh ([?])
uh
[chorus: tha god fahim]
days seem longer, nights seem shorter
i write a rhyme with the flip of a quarter
uh—my n*gga dropped the science in the water
dropped me off a bag, it seems my path gettin’ shorter
demons on my back, death around the corner
call the coroner; when you die, who gon’ mourn ya?
a samurai, solitude be what i seek
it’s only right you think before you speak
[verse 1: tha god fahim]
n*ggas weak
whiskey had me sleepin’ half a week
woke up like a vampire, learn before you teach
keep a burner in the mink
go against the god, it’ll be the last time you blink, let me think
it’s somethin’ how the math go
these n*ggas is all ass, bro
small like tadpoles
assh0l*s; hoppin’ out the bubble to bash foes
mad low, got another burner in the stash, bro
i like to add up the science
you just a dork squad, n*gga, we giants
your whole style remind me of a baby cryin’
i’m the god, nothing less, who wan’ test?
my forty*five is possessed, uh
[chorus: tha god fahim]
days seem longer, nights seem shorter
i write a rhyme with the flip of a quarter
huh—my n*gga dropped the science in the water
dropped me off a bag, it seems my path gettin’ shorter
demons on my back, death around the corner
call the coroner; when you die, who gon’ mourn ya?
a samurai, solitude be what i seek
it’s only right you think before you speak
[verse 2: heem stogied]
i’m just another n*gga tryna get six figures
stay out the mixture, movin’ like a perfect picture
smoke a lot of weed, i don’t really deal with liquor
i’m on point, medicated with a joint
it’s heem stog’, got a heart, but it’s cold
n*ggas be actin’ bold ’til the clips unload
chop a n*gga toes ’til his body go froze
you the type to go play with your nose
i’m marshawn in the fourth quarter: beast mode
i’m the motherf*ckin’ truth, the realest n*gga in the booth
at the end of the day, i’m tryna sh*t on you
nah, i’m playin’ * but understand all the sh*t that i’m saying
b*tch, i’m the man
make a dime piece strip and dance
on the block with the glock hangin’ out my pants
gimme the chance, blow your head to france
i’ma freelance, b*tch, this sh*t is art
i got a bullet in the clip look like a dart, pierce a n*gga heart
you was a b*tch from the start
hood*ass n*gga, but i’m smart
in the streets, but i’m climbin’ up the charts
i remember leavin’ the store, pushin’ a cart
deep in the parking lot, hopin’ the wheels don’t lock
i gotta make it home; wish these n*ggas leave me alone
empty out the clip, let their souls be gone
empty out the clip, let their souls be gone
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