Rivers in the Basement of Truth (feat. Napoleon De Legend, Lord Jessiah & Dj Tmb)

Uh Fergamo Ali Muhammad Coming through with perfect timing I'm in my bag, started my day wrong Drop the record, spelled my name wrong, get it right like a Sade song Pour le vouz francaise they ask me on my tour I'm out shining him like Richie in The Commodores Think Savannah saw Rex causes sore next The jealousy rot your insides like pork flesh Back to Shorty with the short dress She sent the short text You tried 1000 times struck out like New York mets I wrote the testament like Cormac Storm your set for elbow room I need more space than a Mormon's bed Cut the check for a meal Don't need no more respect to member cash Listen in the Portage head with Gorbachev, Napoleono kill Benny Blanco Everything I touch sound right like it was mixed by Eddie Sancho Uh Yeah My flows make the fish drown You know what I did to clowns Roll with a nifty pound And every sound I'm spitting rounds The goal to make the cleanest dope Bring the feens around Witness my shining I glow from a distance now Went from looking up to the man they look up too The lab respect my Hells kitchen why I cook up food Just like a demi earthquake bitch I shook up dudes I used to drive around the hood with my swooped up goop Going fishing like my white folks the urgency I done been with cash money before currency Got love for you if I ever give you a verse for free Honestly you are yet to hear a weak verse from me The heart is cold than Western Cape in July This that heat that make your whole fucking clip fire Before you burn the bridge make sure you learn to fly Stand the test of time Weak niggas test and die Word up This Malcolm aiming out the window No fuss giving Where were you when we were struggle living? Ducking and timing Aiming and killing Troubled waters running deep I'm still swimming Fish out of water Poisonous harbour, all's giving Stride by the author As it was written Your printers are awful They all fiction I'm feening to off you like palms itching Porsche 9/11 edition My force driven Just when you infinite bitching My swords digging They look a gift horse in the mouth It's all sickening Hands cupping both of their ears They won't listen Blindfolds cover their eyes You can't miss Type of niggas switching their sides and their positions Forced to collide with ammunition So send the bloodhounds out to sniff them