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Montana Of 300

Mask Off (Remix)

 

Mask Off (Remix)


Pussy ass niggas saying I ain't got no bodies...
They gonna make me go back to the old me
Woo..

Mask off, you niggas mad soft
"Please help me God", that's gon' be your last thought
I shoot em up, like a rocket, blast off
Im on your ass after I blast, I do the dash and smash off
That road is dark, asphalt
Get nailed like Jesus if your pussy ass cross
I see through that shit you talking, like a fucking glass jaw
And you should take a fucking bow, you rappers actors, Shad Moss
The price to win is to go work your ass off
If you don't get it, I'm gon' it you gon' get yo ass moss'd
If you still looking for God, well thats because your ass lost
He's within you, y'all don't get it like a fucking bad toss
No longer broke, like I just took my cast off
Before the fame bitch, I been and had sauce
Pounds of dro, I had to get that gas off
I used to pray on the highway that I don't get my ass caught
I left the trap, took off a rap, I splash sauce
$2800 what my Gucci bag cost
Come take a picture, I'm so bright that you could take your flash off
I treat your bitch like a baton, she will get hit then passed off
I know you sick and you nauseous
Imposters mock us, they not us
Same niggas always hating, always watch us
Fuck niggas tryna knock us, won't prosper
Word to my mom I'm bout drama
You won't rob her son, I'm not Oscar
You niggas sweeter than peach cobbler
Space Jam, my roster's got monsters
Shoot like Spike Lee coming with the choppas
Might be slightly off of my rockers
Might pop your medulla oblongata
Shots turn you flodgers into dodgers
Leave you lying there dead, like Mufasa
My lyrics liver like shather
Evert beat I touch is gonna get conquered
I go unconscious, I go bonkers
I snap like lobster, rap god
I got way more flavour than mambas
Fly til I die like La Bamba
They see my swagger persona
Wanna jack it, like a bomber
My own logo on my joggers
Lots of green on me like Blanca
My pockets fatter than E Honda
I'm about my business, come proper
Labels can't call me like Shaka
My words can heal like a doctor
My guns turn dreads into pasta, uhhhunn
Talking like he gotta steel body
Out of arms reach, they be real cocky
3 gun cases, steel still by me
Real tear drops, real bodies
When I'm poppin his ass, like a lil Molly
They gon' claim I hit him, no Bill Cosby
Leave his head red, drop dead Fred, they gon' think somebody killed Lil Yachty
Cut out the flexing, you ain't built, you ain't a wrestler
But kick it off and I'll return it, Devin Hester
I put that steel on you pussy cats, like Sylvester
Blowing like a ref like I'm showing them how that tech work
Your girl probably never told you I f'ed her
She sucked my dick, so you know I know how that neck work
They way her neck jerk, I swear she was an expert
I promise I could make her give my crew neck like a sweatshirt
Dick-riding, obviously you're the expert
You probably cum on yourself if I told you lets work
And since my name on the song, it'll be your best work
We are not the same, you lame, go check my net worth
Stop barking nigga, I'm Jordan, Pippin
You're pussy ass ain't starting nigga
I'm pulling up and parking nigga
Hopping out and sparking nigga
Cold with the Tommy, put a funny nigga on TV like Martin nigga
When I cross his ass, imma drop his ass, then cook his ass, James Harden nigga...

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