Muffler Lung

They categorize the way that I'm rapping as classical

Pop out a hole and I'm smashing a dome like I'm playing a game of Whac-A-Mole

Two Phillies together, I fill them with lettuce like tuna inside of a casserole

I'm a steamroller, you fly like the sea when I fly international

One nation under God with liberty and justice

Attachments on the musket, I fiddle the adjustments

Two mil on the neck so they grill me at customs

On the A -Team like B. A. Baracus, big paper pockets

Feast your eyeballs on all the spoils when I fishbowl and get major optics

I might as well go in the booth and move you from your duty, and shoot a movie

Heat up the jets in a jacuzzi, I'm getting groovy

Rappers already know the outcome when they stepping to me

Ever since this Lord put this breath into me

I'm collecting everything that's destined to me

Count your blessings, man your battleship and mount your weapons

Muffler lungs, I'm blowing smoke to the heavens and throwing sevens

Muffler lungs!

Take an X -ray, ****

Muffler lungs! Muffler lungs!

Ayo I got smoke

You got smoke

We can all smoke until the lungs get broke

Smoke till the lungs get broke

We can all smoke till he lungs get broke

I'm on your turf, dawg, on a Yerf-Dog, diggin' holes in the dirt yard

As bombs dropping, it shots more than hurts all

Thats a old gen tech cart dunk

Where the pilots fly aggressive

I'm sky writing the text that impress you

You find that message is an unavoidable threat that's stunting your vision

Boy, if you listen close, you hear your lungs revving up like an F1 engine

You ain't consistent with your brake suspension and didn't listen

So the price quickly ascended for my click's attention

In a pit stop where the pit stops

On point like a pitchfork in the pitch dark

Get your wigs barked for that tick-tock

Watch the big loss on the old block

There ain't no chip offs

I'm with Michael Vic dawgs, your big boss man is a cop, rip off

Now wrestle that thot in the junkyard

We prepping in the kitchen, chopping that dumb rod, a fiend shot but out of lunch card

This contact is nuclear power plant

When the smoke's inhaled, you know it well

It's lit from the gas and air, tell him choke in hell

Tell him choke in hell