Mars (prod. by Large Professor) - Cormega, Action Bronson, Roc Marciano

Even the hardest rhymers know I got desire and heart

Like John Starks when «The Dunk» had the Garden

Wilding, triumph was short-lived

But the moment is timeless

Words hold weight like consignment, never break your silence

If you face indictment, take it like a man

A thousand deaths is a lot of sweat

Satan’s fire rages like the 80's

Tyson blazin souls of those that say we came from science

Ain’t as wise as they like us to believe, think about it

What made us conscious?

A greater power gave us all the gift of life

Be grateful for it before the creator calls you

Witnessing a great performance, I ain’t conforming

I crush those who want it then weigh the powder of they persona

On the highest scale of rhyming they’ve encountered

A peak harder to reach than Himalayan mountains

People say I’m calmer, I consider it evolving

I’m sick of facing charges And my mental game is stronger

As rain falls on my executive trench

With the waist belt

Base dealt make your face melt

Toast to fortune, diamonds in the coffin

Pinky extended, getting twisted like a blender

Grown man rap, grown man pockets

Never catch a statutory, eating cacciatore

You like a scungill', peel when you see steel

Me, I’ll squeeze it til it’s empty, then I refill

We sitting, playing gin rummy

Chips of hash like the Rock of Gibraltar

Cop my pops a Porsche

Gun metal with the rocket launcher

You getting wetter when I pop it off

I got bitches making salsa sauce with they blouses off

Shorty shoot the gun soft like a mouse’s cough

Four hundred dollars what it cost for an ounce of broth

Collect the paper, then I’m bouncing off

That’s me

As I mastermind, craft rhymes made of heroin

Head nod, lines on a higher echelon

With fly epilogue, Gore-tex belt checker

Bought three Hecklers, the sun gleam on my complexion

Completion, eclectic in fleeces

Expensive oils and greases, slacks with the creases

Black Jesus in Moncler geeses, sample cheeses

Antique hammer squeezing

My grammar like ham, shit is seasoned

Bitches from Greek to Polynesian

Wallabeein' out in Sweden

While I be out for green like a vegan

Stay thorough, decorated in metal

Chain yellow, grape flavor cigarellos

Days are mellow, Good fellows put change on your sombrero

Slugs out the gun bellow, hit the falsetto

I twist chickens in the six-inch stilettos

Use the elbow to split your wig

Male chauvinistic pig

Fuck a nigga bitch like ol' Kells did to Mr. Bigg

But I don’t keep it on the low, I blow the shit up

If he show up at my crib, that old fucker get cut

Nigga, I throw a left hook at your grandpop

While Chef Action Bronson cook up them lamb chop

After that, we gonna eat a rapper for dessert

Mega got the blood of emcees on a napkin in his shirt

You’re acting like you’re berserk

Nigga, that’ll get you hurt

Dragged all over the floor, be a tragedy for sure

They thought I might have fell off, so I had to get to work

Show em how it goes down

When I put the pronouns and them adjectives to work

Ah, niggas get murked

The perk?

I think I’m blessed cause I’m eye-seeing them

Roc Mars said it’s cause I got bars and I’m nicer than them

They all right, I ain’t as biased as him

Nah, I’m lying;

them niggas drier than psoriasis skin

Lyrically, I’m a messiah to them

Sing em a rockabye

It’s gonna be Mega Action happening when you Roc with Sai

That’s M.A.R.S., motherfucker, and I’m not gone lie

Hip-Hop is something we came to occupy

Tell em why