Mr. Fuji - Westside Gunn, Conway, Smoke DZA

Ayo, fuck these niggas, yo

Fuck 'em!

Fuckin' voice going out screaming on these niggas

I’m a fuckin' legend

Get the fuck outta here, yo

Ayo, I heard they pray to FLYGOD, you better be

Hit the brick with the pedigree

Flyer than me, Lord, you can never be

I got some niggas, shoot your kids, then get up for an extra key

No heart niggas

CDG’s hearts on the shark head, pick the coffin niggas

I popped up like The Undertaker

Six on the stove another brick watch the crystals when it break up

Money machines running like Team Jamaica

Crept in the cell on the wake-up, left a nigga poked on the bottom bunk bed

Hit another brick with the rock bottom, nigga

Went out for lunch (went out for lunch)

Table-cloth Fendi nigga

I fuck around and hit any nigga

I’m Jig, not Jigga, nigga

That’s Conway, I’m more like Biggs, nigga

Listening to Big, nigga

Weighing up some big, nigga

My nigga did 10

He came home looking like Sid Vicious

32 shots’ll flip ya

Flip your baby mama

Flip your grandmama

My nigga did 5

Came home looking like Ahmed Johnson

What up, my nigga?

Bossanova pies with the extra skirt

Bought some soda for my guy so he can stretch the work

I bet it hurt for niggas to see me bop, Know what they said at first?

Con look at your face, you not marketable, it’ll never work

Now T’s with my face on it, top-selling shirts

I’ve got mills in different countries, boy watch how a legend work

Kilo necklace on my shirt, Smith and Wesson work

Youngun' shooting on one leg, he call his weapon Dirk

Shooters lurk for you, black van with the Hecklers in it

Have a nigga wacked before my breakfast finished

That bitch kids at school, we in the kitchen cheffin' in it

Cook smoke, I let him keep the pot with all the extras in it

It’s getting spooky for these rappers, right?

Cause they already know that we don’t rap alike

They know they ain’t half as nice, I ain’t even have to write

I feel like Pun, no wonder these niggas living this afterlife

Niagara Cafe, I had the rice with the pollo

Quarter brick of the white go for ocho

Had to throw the ice in the ro ro

Buffalo nigga with a Sean Price mixed with Hov flow

They throwing salt, Mr. Fuji, huh

They must want a nigga flip it, make a movie, huh

It’s pimp or die, you know these hoes out here choosing up

You wanna take pictures with rappers, male groupie, huh

All my niggas hit the streets, fuck going check to check

You got no money in your pockets, yet you fresh to death

Kush God bitch, the of best

Got the work bustin' through your city like the Lex express

He tryna get a plate on the arm

The moment he started rubbing me raw

I told him you die in a droubt if you wait in a storm

In other words, I payed for his bond

No damn favors, these grams like Van Vader

Landscaping the game, you can’t save it

Natural heal, but a fan favorite

Here to fuck up the fun, they ain’t fucking with son