Lyrics Montana - John Anthony

Yeah
Yeah, yeah

Ayo, this beat infectious
You'll catch a fever if you seem to rep this
Completely dissecting the beat 'til you see it's intestines
Leavin' you breathless, knock you out for your ring and your necklace
Come back the following week and randomly beat you senseless
Your back against the fences so you better protect your neck
Before I become the Jason of Hip-Hop like I'm Inspectah Deck
Forget the checks, I only rap so I don't get depressed
And take a bunch of meds and accidentally wear your wedding dress
I'll resurrect from the dead like a damn magician
I'll handle shit with no mannered vision, I slander, dismantle bitches
You deal whatever the hand is given, my plan of mission
Is to fuck up your standard living with guns and ammunition
Here's a prediction, I'll handle you like a man
You'll be stiff as a fuckin' mannequin, time to end the shenanigans
Pamela Anderson's gonna randomly need an ambulance
After I slam her with my hammer and zip up my pants again
I gotta resurface, I'm skippin' and flippin' the words in the verses
I'm 'bouta reverse this, I'm taking it back where nobody has heard this
A lyrical wordsmith, these mother fuckers never thought I would hurt 'em
But what is the purpose? I'm doing whatever I gotta be doing
Yeah, bitch I'm poppin' in, this game I'm toppin' it
I got this shit around my finger as a ring, I'm never droppin' it
Dominate like I'm Mohammad, I won't ever stop this shit
Until my competition nominates me at the top again

I told you, man, I told you
Don't fuck with me!
Nah, but you wouldn't listen
Well, you stupid fuck
You die mother fucker

When I hit the track, I try to relax and attack verses
But on the surface, I can sometimes be a tad nervous
I'm at your service, workin' these bars with a pack of bourbon
Cash stuffed in my pockets like a fuckin' taxidermist
Put you back in a hearse when I murder your ass spiritually
Who you know independently killin' rap jeeringly?
Switchin' up from trap, to the classic boom-bap
Sampling tracks and kick it back to the 50's and rap lyrically
You think it's o-v-e-r, but I plan to show you my answer
You go below me, you'll vanish and kill your only bystander
Homie, you don't even know me, we are not close, it don't matter
I told you phony's don't poke me, I'm fuckin' Tony Montana
Bitch, I ain't done but I think you knew
This is what I was built to do
Fists are up for a fight but I stick to guns like gorilla glue
This the job that I finna do
Here I come for an interview
Fuck with me and you'll see why the villain killer is loose
Yeah
I'm takin' my time, look at me rise to the top
If I said I'm doing fine, I ain't lyin', better stop
This the shit I'm tryna find, see the signs when it knocks
Take it back to '59, doing crimes with the mob
Back in my day, I would try just to rhyme for the props
Pat Riley, I design what I like with the shots
Black Friday couldn't file up the lines that I drop
Got more rhymes in my mind than the dictionary got

You wanna fuck with me? Okay
You wanna play rough? Okay!
There!
Okay, you like that? Huh? You want more?
Say hello to my little friend!
You whores!
There!