Mongolia (feat. Hologram & Meyhem Lauren)

Well, he knows my name But my name is not my name And you? To them, you're only The Greek And of course, I'm not even Greek Yeah, back the five Yeah, Hologram Yeah, that's coming up Yo, it's Mr. 40-40, dressed like I'm Treach from Naughty A young brother that'll stretch your shorty (damn) David Caruso couldn't connect the story (what's up) To solve the puzzle His favorite murder weapon was a shovel It the jefe, Spanish women all over my body Like I'm Machete, homes All I do is write these essay poems Let's get dusted at the Mets game, homes Like 16 handles, catch me swirlin' in the left lane, home (whoo) I don't even got my left leg on (damn) Tryna dance tonight (damn) This ain't your language that I seen Wrapped up my hands in ice Me and my brother go together Just like lamb and rice (fuck me) I eat African 'shrooms, while rappin' on tombs Back in June, when I clapped at your goon (ah) My car color blew off, well, it's new, and it's too awful The limo driver moved off Or we'll off your new golf shoes (damn) Working on my birdie putt, you heard me, slut Hurry up, curvy butt I need a bitch to go down on me (down) I mean really go to town on me (town) I mean really do a number on me (suck that dick, bitch) Supplyin' a league, a few fiends died at my feet (whoo) Got dealt a bad hand off a half gram Feast to famine, give you a half Xan And throw you in the Grand Canyon (you fuckin' dead) Yeah, uh Uh Mayhem doin' good, that's a rumor that I heard Wearin' diamonds, eatin' bluefin tuna They wanna test me like I'm Bradley Beal None of you motherfuckers real My nigga, pass the steel Mass appeal, mass production Mass destruction, crime, corruption Wine consumption On a private island wildin' The sun threw shade 'cause it's jealous of my medallion Bitchin' and then compellin' Late nights like Jimmy Fallon Louis silk cuff with Nikes, picture me stylin' My life story is an open shirt outfit We gettin money, kid, you niggas ain't 'bout shit