Nike Box - Tha God Fahim, Kungg Fuu

Niggas is paranoid so I don’t really trust a lot

The closest to you quick to put you in an iron box

All these stones look excavated from icy rocks

When I was trapping, stashed the money in my Nike box

Nike box filled with all this cake in it

Before I ever hand-out, I’m gon' be takin' it

I’m authentic

A nigga’s style sicker than a clinic

Plus niggas want me dead for my pendant

Super sport turbo engine

Got a nigga quick to squeeze the fifth like lemons

'Cause niggas brainstorm robbing me for the spot

Better think of the cotch

The chrome Smith & Wesson the Glock

I’m the opposite of nice

Mean on the mic as I am Mike

Outta mind and damn sure outta sight

If you read between the lines you’ll find

Snakes in the grass, the desert water and vines

{Chorus: Tha God Fahim]

Niggas is paranoid so I don’t really trust a lot

The closest to you quick to put you in an iron box

All these stones look excavated from icy rocks

When I was trapping, stashed the money in my Nike box

Niggas is paranoid so I don’t really trust a lot

The closest to you quick to put you in an iron box

All these stones look excavated from icy rocks

When I was trapping, stashed the money in my Nike box

I’m the sole evaporator

Vivid calculator

Diminish your soul

Tomb stone engraver

I’m the cream of the crop

Tryna get a knot

I used to run from the cops

Jumping fences

Fucked my hand up from the gate

I’m still running 'cause I got this dirty gat

And I ain’t tryna fucking catch a case

My g said «get off your ass, you plan to be rich»

Cops 'round my way lock you up for no fucking reason

I pray for every real man that’s real

Used to stash money in my Nike box, yeah that’s real

It’s like we gotta pack still just to survive

That’s how this world is but I’m still riding

When I was young and really finding out just what I was

Gotta keep a keen eye out, 'cause it was no love

From a slug, they wanna see you left in cold blood

Must leave no evidence, picture me rolling no gloves

Picture me high, and nigga that won’t happen

Picture a nigga tryna jack me, I might clap him

Niggas talk a lot but they blast

Jaw I shatter

Turn you to a dark vessel of fecal matter

Studying like Neil Tyson

Catch a dagger, don’t wreck your Kroger

But I’ma bagger, used to trap in front of Kroger

To get the cabbage, flowing like an old school last bester

But I love my melanin, feel heaven-sent

Building on my enterprise, my third eye

See through all this buffoonery and fakes in disguise

God knows I’m on a mission

Scoping with my third eye

I can’t fuck with you li’l niggas

Need more artillery

They cock off, take off, bomb first

Your favorite rapper is fake, dawg

I’ll blow a nigga face off

At the baseboard, game mang

You ran for the first plate

And you mang, we done been past the first base

My traphouse just like a motherfucking army base

Whatever you need, I’ll find a way