Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Nike Box, artist - Tha God Fahim. Album song Dump Goat, in the genre Рэп и хип-хопDate of issue: 03.09.2017
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Tha God Fahim
Song language: English
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 |
| 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 |