Bangladesh - EJ Moneyman Mitchem Diss lyrics

Remember me? I'm back, I'm who Treshawn Money be There ain't no alter ego, or any mask to hide up my identity I got my greens I'm talking cabbage with a side of broccoli And you know a rapper's savage if they got a first name Emory Award ceremony, they like, Aye where Treshawn Money be? At my crib with EJ's girl, giving her blast of my Sunny D Cash, game, and fame, he can't talk he got none of these Forget Kendrick, I got forests filled with hundreds of them Money trees Such a prodigy, that i came equipped with rings like a binder I go ham, and yes I'm a m**m, I don't need yalls reminders Boy, I'm eating, boy I'm grubbin, waiter, where's the plates? Blowing out the opposition like Preston when he vapes I'm chill, it's just sorry rappers that I hate Take it to the field, boy I'll break you, leave you on them skates 1st hit, you're done, you'd fall straight into you casket End your whole career, just like how I did the last kid I spit the realest like Chance and Mac high on acid Boy I'm selfish, just like Kobe, I never pa** it Talking all that smack, but I end with a fast hit Boy I kept this on the real, YALL faker than some plastic So EJ Moneyman Mitchem, 1 question, where the money at? You'd have better luck on YouTube posting videos of some funny cats Haircut looking a lot like mini Mr. T No one disagrees And when I end your career, you'll end up with your own day on the month of Black History Hair looking crazy, like a freak show, main act of the circus Put you in the ring, right in the center, like Kendrick Perkins Your girl reminds me of the ponies, because they let everyone ride her Probably why one of her favorite drinks are 7 up in cider Jokes on you, cuz you garbage mixed with a little bit of trash I'd say you the worst, but your name ain't Yung Sucatash I'm on a murder spree, so you best watch out Mitchem Going beast mode on you crew, I guess I Marshawn Lynched em Dropping bars all across the nation, call me Carrie Nation Verses so ill, that it's taken ever patient Boy, it's one hit, and then you done, don't bother saying, "I'm okay" Hit you so hard, I'd put you sleep, leave you having dreams like MLK I'm chill, it's just sorry rappers that I hate All these f*ggot rappers need me to smack em straight Seems like no one the planet, appreciates Tre'shawn EJ thinking he baller, but it takes more than just having J's on And you didn't think I could do it, but this track is just so Fresh And it ain't often a black guy gets dissed by a bot from Bangladesh Heck, I ain't here to lose, I ain't got pity for your whole crew You're face funny, like comic con, I'm sending kamhamehas like goku You always walking around with bags, honestly it's kinda creepy Dissing your whole crew, so I'm versing the NAACP Boy you never mattered, I'm spitting like Marshall Mathers, Eminem Verses so smooth, I'm talking River bed sediment You playing ball but in graduation day I'll be getting all the letters man You coulda pa**ed the mic to Micah, but that savage gotta speech impediment Heck, I'm calling out Collins, You big but I don't know about Suave Hopefully, the sk** of spitting will come to you some day It could be Sunday, boy the whole crew will need a prayer They say Tre'shawn running the whole city, but I never ran for mayor