Michael Corleone

(Ghost)
Yea yea yea yea
Aye yea yea yea yea
One two one two mic check
One two one two one two one two
Yea yea yea aye

Mind on my riches
Got no time for snitches
Grinding so relentless
Kill the game and ya my witness
Remember nights I'd sit and write
I'd drop a song and ain't nobody listen
Now I'm in position
They say that the flow is dope and there is no eclipsing
Tell me who was dissing
I got news for em
I'm in my truest form
And I ain't stopping either
I make it hard to keep up
I got my foot on they neck and that's where Ima keep it
Ain't no fucking secret
We don't play nigga
Life get deep as grave diggers
So get paid nigga
Henny poured for my slain niggas
Immune to wack shit
Every verse a classic
Simone biles handle bars like gymnastics
I'm too dopeboy
They say I'm datpiff
You talking lavish
While living average
Yea you might've fooled the masses
But that bullshit don't ever pass us
You had your chance and passed up
Boy you'll never catch up
Practicing perfection privately
plotting progression
Police pursuing plagued prosecutors pursuing prosecution
Prisons polluted past present
prostitution please provide proof
Pleading politicians politicking proven problems
Pooling poor people's payment
Paper placing poorly poor peeps
Propaganda plays pouring powerful poison
Ploys pointed
Purely poised
Pleasure pained painted plains
Pay per play
Penny pinching
Pitching promises
Pending proper production
Proudly pavement paved
Platinum plaque premise
Presence profound
Painstakingly patient
Pressing pressure
Pronounced pundints
Punished polished potential puzzling

Woo yea
They can't stop the god
They can't stop the god
Michael Corleone
Michael Corleone
Michael Corleone
In the flesh



Credits
Writer(s): Odera Iloegbunam
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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