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Talley Of 300 - Fge Cypher, Pt. 4 lyrics


Feat : Montana Of 300 & No Fatigue & $avage

[Verse 1: No Fatigue]
I'm ahead, you behind
Ain't shit funny now
Wasn't a dummy then
Not a dummy now
Tried to build bridges with you niggas
But they crumbled down
When I'm rappin' on the mic
That's how that money sound
Say she ready for the world
Wanna love me down
Feelin like Ant of ATL
I get that Cutty now
And you know that bitch be with me
Like my buddy now
Hop on the track
'Tigue on the beat
You know its goin' down
Make niggas scared
Hands shaky just like Doctor Strange
I never change
Just switch lanes
That's two different things
Me and you niggas not the same
Got a different aim
We not on the same track
He caught a different train
Get your girl, 'cause she can end up mine, nigga
Get her with me, not like James
We gotta Bond, nigga
Only gon' fuck, she talkin' head
Zordon nigga
And if not, cut it short
Like a lawn, nigga!
Run up and catch shots
Like i'm spotted up
Pull out like extended I'm droppin' 'em
I hustle, get cash, I ain't have enough
Now my pockets stuffed like a locker, huh
She give it to me like a stick up
I blow her back out like a pickup
I be with some hustlers we get it
We work out some packs like a sit up!
Welcome to my land, nigga
This is Skull Island
Monsters over here
So I hope you don't try it
Imma get to blowin' like the flute
Tryna spy kid
But lately I been chillin'
Needed space, no hyphen
The road from the Palms, I truck it
Swear, it's always somethin'
I came from nothin' to somethin'
So please do not make no assumptions
Then with the mops, no bucket
Like I'm bout to bust, I'm coming
I pull up with niggas, like fuck it
Neighborhood hear all the ruckus!
Gotta watch for all the fake
Stay away from impostors
No lyin', one loyal lion
Wouldn't pull no Mufasa
When I'm ridin', probably see me with his baby, no toddler
And I ain't worried bout no niggas bitch, hakuna matata!
Squad!

[Verse Intro: TO3]
Yeah!
TO3!
FGE shit man!
All I know is live fly
Y'know where the fuck we came from man
Lets get it!

[Verse 2: Talley of 300]
Project Baby, nigga!
Streets what made me, nigga!
God what changed me
But you gon' meet him
Ever try to play me, nigga!
It slim from the shady
Make your head spin like the '80s!
Whack yo ass at 4 A.M.,
Watch they get grim on the Daily, look!
Bacardi 151 on the rocks
Had to get it straight
No warning shots
Flame hit his lips like they licked the top
Make them swing and twist, watch them milly rock
Make the dime trip
And imma take this shit way up a notch
Gamble with ya life and I'll be sittin' waitin' to pull on you, like a fuckin' slot
Often I'm saucin'
Get a coffin for talkin'
Tell the haters I hear it
It's on my hip like a Walkman
'Cept the price goin' down
Killers bid like an auction
You in the field but we hawkin'
Removin' life like abortions
Yeah, I'm too hot, that's why I be cool
Fly by a nigga B2
Leprechaun about meloo
Try to Marty Wolf me, you'll leak blue
Where I'm from, you need ski shoes
But you'll die tryin' to walk in these boots
You of least concerns it's a big bird, it ain't never fly, emu
Wet 'em down, mop sticks
How you duckin' hoes, ostrich
I be poppin' straps, leave 'em topless
Get chained if you ain't got sense
Word from the wise
Stay alert at all times
[Lyrics from: https:/lyrics.az/talley-of-300/-/fge-cypher-pt-4.html]
If you ain't prepared to kill
Then I hope you ready to die
But, I'm loaded and cocked
Ain't no safety on mine
I ain't wastin' no time
Bitch I'm gon' make you a Vine
I'm gon' shoot like a star
You'll have a place in the sky
All that talk that you hard
But semis say you a lie
Bah!

[Verse Intro: $avage]
Wings up in this bitch, man
Don't doubt the god
Don't doubt the squad, man
I told you it's our year
MOB!

[Verse 3: $avage]
You decide
FGE or nothin'
Nigga choose a side
With us, or you not
You ain't with us
Nigga that's suicide
Shoot yourself or tie that fuckin' rope around ya neck
Never ran from nothin'
But I'm runnin' up a check
I be flexin' with the bars on you niggas
Ain't here to rep
If I want to send a message
I'll hit his ass with the Tecs
I'll pull it so don't push me, boy
I'm livin' on the edge
Think you're cool and get smoked
Like two Ls to the head, yeah!
Ah, shit
Big MOB, boss shit
Put that 12 to his back like LaMarcus Aldridge
That's the pump
Make 'em jump
On some criss cross shit
Leave 'em wet
With a hole in his top, dolphin
Ay!
We shootin' shit
Give a fuck 'bout who you with
Camera man with the cannon
I be on some movie shit
Put a rappin' nigga in the cast like he Ludacris
Mask off, leave him in the past
On my Future shit
Stupid bitch, twist your top
Like a two liter bottle
Two 9 Millimeters
Brand new, out the box
Be cool 'fore a nigga breeze through on ya block
Boom, Boom!
Like a clown, nigga smooth out his socks
Bang!

[Verse Intro: MO3]
You know me
Smoke 'em like a joint, bitch
Plus
I never disappoint, bitch
Ah, ah!
Don't doubt the god, mothafucka
This that new drug
We all armed around this bitch like a group hug!

[Verse 4: Montana of 300]
Jumpman, Jumpman
Jumpman, Jumpman
Jumpman, Jumpman!
Punch line after punch line
I give beats concussions!
Toughman, Toughman, Toughman
What's with all the frontin'?
I'll smoke you, take you out your group David Ruffin!
Gunmen, Gunmen, Gunmen
3D popout, dumpin'!
Took off his top, he just got lit up like a pumpkin!
Do a drill, my hammer nail you no construction
If police question, I act dumb and I know nothin'!
You weak as shit
FGE bitch, we the shit
You'll get shot just for blinkin', bitch
I'll Tee up like I'm drinkin' Brisk
Blow your top off, raise the roof
You assed out just like Daisy dukes
Hop out that Mercedes coupe
Them Jordan's on me, Baby Blue
I got bars and bread but bitch
I'm tryna see El Chapo bands
That cheese on top of chips
I had to tell that bitch I'm nacho man
Bandana on like Macho Man
They can't see me like Hollow Man
But run up, it's gon' cost you
Bitch, I got more shells than taco stands
Cut out all that tough shittin'
Miss me with that fuck shit
'Cause when this rapper slide
It won't be Weezy in no Trukfit
My whole team slidin' with them sticks
Mighty ducks, bitch!
So many shots that he won't know what hit 'em
Like a trumpet
I promise, I'm too clutch, bitch
Ray Allen for them bucks, bitch
They mad and I'm just thumbin' through these hunnids
Like a truck stick

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