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Saga City

by Tha God Fahim

on Iron Monkey (2018)

[Verse 1: Mach-Hommy]
Spray you like the U.S Army
Eviscerate you, deflate you
Ravage your crew, it's gnarly
Put them hammers on your new Bvlgari, Mugabe
Bob Marley, Zimbabwe in the chalet
Sippin' Guinness with Duvalier switch the bally intermittent valley
Toussaint [?]
You cabbage for the dinner party
Coleslaw, Soprano want dollar in a tinted 'Rari
Get a glory, bottles of Mach-cicillin in the lorry
Snow Beach, the Black and Mild burn was OD
Feel like a nigga burnt my OG
But that's life of a Fashion Rebel before this Instagram shit
The [?] jacket fit the ratchet better
The Amazon make you lavage [?], high
I know why you niggas liable to tattle-tellin'
Your behind too narrow there
You don't want to get locked up inside, ‘cause you a gambler
Ass-betting in the county boost your character
You moving like an amateur
Amidst goons, in a mix with nothing but goons
'Til it was toothless it was just another chipped tooth
One foot in front the other
Inaudible, I conceal it and run for cover
Tatatatata
Buy some time to jump inside the [?]
Escape, we'll shut the island with the [?]
The rottweiler for the look is a thousand
I'm only passing through the hook, it's a thousand
You know the verse is too, is you looking or browsing?
I'm not the goya saca, boy-o could shop, boy stop
Spin you like a Dreidel with [?]

[Verse 2: Your Old Droog]
Droog ain't the dude you gon' fuck over twice
You four wings and french fries
This duck over rice, I'm nice
Doing it whole wop, the wo hop
Getting evicted for wild trafficking and out the co-op
With more licks then it takes to hit the centre of a tussy pop, pause
You know that old "how much wood would a woodchuck chuck?"
Right on the money (like what?)
Like restaurants for good luck
You're bucked, getting stuck with birds
You don't feed 'em
Still unrefined with all this new found financial freedom
Wait to bring me oranges after the meal
When I don't know if I should wash my hands with 'em (or what?)
Or eat 'em (I ate 'em)
Deal with underworld characters and bookies
Split you for that paper like fortune cookies
Scorching rookies
You aren't men of any honour
Think you cultured 'cause you eat once a year with your boys at Benihanas?
Fuck your persona, you a social piranha
Pop shit then be all apologies like Nirvana
Horrible performers and wack writers
Back writers mad ‘cause I got more fire then crack lighters
Burn your brow, turn a thou' to a mil just for my humour
Only mill you concerned with is rumour
Tryna spill tea, screaming guilty
While I'm filthy
More one liners then Uncle Miltie
Sitting on the dock of the bay
You spitting on the cock of a gay
Who lives about a block away
I feel like Dre, making moves with a Miss LA
Smoke the import, after I eat a fish filet
Grey skies, white clouds, air misty
Clearer with each flow spit (get ‘em)
And the team is real close knit
Droog to them to you? I'm your old associate
When ya probably see I'm the best
It's like “no shit”
Ferocious, explosive, Jesus, Mother Mary and Joseph
Toast to rappers past, tap that ass
Flex the grammar still, selling camomile
The yogi way more pricey than your homemade ice tea

[Verse 3: Tha God Fahim]
Mic check like Nike
My life is Cinemax
Like a movie from Spike Lee
I strangle mics since domestic violence
I put my footprint in the game, Max Payne aim
Who shall contest the tyrants?
.380 clip with a maximum capacity, gradually
Leave you bloody like Mary, Kate, and Ashley
You couldn't box ‘cause your soul too dense
Deport a .50 clip like Trump in pence, I'm outta sense
Crazy how I paint a portrait
My words wrap around the earth in a circular vortex
My style is pastiche selling
Tryna depict this verbal Abramelin
Laying the casket in a room where your mom and pastor dwelling
Smack you like Bruce Wayne
Your favourite rapper got a 100k followers and fake chains
And this bitch'll do anything for some Wu Tang
Remind me of a needle in haystacks, she been through things
I sweep rap fanatics off they feet my way
They play my tape and think they got beat by Dre
My raps is like Michael in '96
Your raps is like Phil Jackson, when he was coaching the Knicks
I come through cappin' out the AK and you split
There's more shells clappin' out the GAT and you dip
I'm an animal, tap you on your shoulder- rip your mandible
Rappers scared to run into me like Crash Bandicoot
Blast the mechanical, leave you half mechanical
Smoking botanical, eating rappers like Hannibal's
I'm like Nightmare from Soul Calibur, hack your life away
On accident but still have the right of way
I never throw nothing I write away
‘Cause every bar is classic, like a student that feel some type of way
Like Rich Homie
I smack the smile off your big homie
And you ain't gon' do shit homie
I pull a stick homie, Caine
Menace II Society
Bullet in your brain, a body in varieties
Just another slain in the name of the prodigy
Double crossed, execution juicing, I'm off the lottery
You can't intimidate, you giving off dead threats
Me and my niggas own more guns then Rednecks
Tripods and skulls for giving out lead press
Military grade knock your brains through your headrest