Mazel Tron Songtext

They say I'm the GOAT, new drip, where’s the lamb sauce?
Flyer than a birdie, Desert Eagle in my Trackhawk
I ain't Irish, but my money doubling, grab a shamrock
I ain't trickin' with you bitches, pockets came with padlocks
They thought that I was fantasizing, showed 'em that I can pop
Grew my hair down to my shoulders, fan thought I was Matt Ox
Jump a fence and get my lick back like this The Sandlot
Tell them boys to quit the lying, living life on caps lock

Florida to the Mitten, SBDSM X BLP
You a burger with some ham minus cheese, you a BLT
Tables, ladders, chairs, it get extreme, we creep like TLC
You gon' catch some legal bullets, boy, I got a CLP
Oops, I mean CPL, my driver got a CDL
Why this bitch be preachin' like she real, but got a BBL?
If I ever fell off, it was on a trampoline
How I walk out with it on, you would've thought it’s fashion week
Off Runtz, defying gravity, the Wraith look like a galaxy
My shooter throw his hoodie on and score, Carmelo Anthony
Was in school, I had that bag on me with more pape’ than the faculty Boy, you grown without a strategy, that's really just a tragedy
Rolled a seven in the Jungo leaf, that’s max capacity
They left me in the jungle in the rain, ain't have a canopy
Jugg Messiah, I'm your majesty or that shit blasphemy
And free the legend 80s, I can't lie, look up "Veracity"

Dreidel Gang and the ShittyBoyz, I call it "Mazel Tron"
Feeling like Kareem, I’m throwing hooks with Carti' goggles on
I let this chopper chow down, the same diet as Donkey Kong
Rap the golden ticket, I ain't see a Willy Wonka bar

They say I'm the GOAT, new drip, where's the lamb sauce?
Flyer than a birdie, Desert Eagle in my Trackhawk
I ain't Irish, but my money doubling, grab a shamrock
I ain't trickin' with you bitches, pockets came with padlocks
They thought that I was fantasizing, showed 'em that I can pop
Grew my hair down to my shoulders, fan thought I was Matt Ox
Jump a fence and get my lick back like this The Sandlot
Tell them boys to quit the lying, living life on caps lock

Lunch lady leftovers, he shittin' on his haters
Flip an opp, no Yoshi Tanenbaum, Glock came with a laser
Two-two then I Tommy Wright III, tell 'em, "Meet your maker"
Pulling capers, I was at La Quinta, I just left The Breakers
They thought I was a con, made it out the sewer, I'm a connoisseur
Me and BabyTron just hit the city, feel like Zeke and Luther
Touch down with the Dog Shit Militia, smoking cow manure
Opp kebab, I introduce the stick and put them on a skewer
Mentioning my damn dog, they won't make it far
Find 'em all and fuck 'em over like a bad A&R
Make 'em jump, Van Halen, we could rock out, no guitar
Let that iron duel like the Renaissance, who tryna spar?
I'm getting rich, them boys non-rich
Opp 'gar, that's a lick, taste like naan bread
This thirty clip common denominator, solvable
They want beef, but that's beyond me, this shit impossible, water, ayy

This jit be totin' sticks and drums, but he don't do percussion
Fuck a doppelganger, I'm the one who really do the stunting
Kill a clown, I put it in the yoke, come grab an Egg McMuffin
I can turn the car into a UFO just pressing buttons

They say I'm the GOAT, new drip, where's the lamb sauce?
Flyer than a birdie, Desert Eagle in my Trackhawk
I ain't Irish, but my money doubling, grab a shamrock
I ain't trickin' with you bitches, pockets came with padlocks
They thought that I was fantasizing, showed 'em that I can pop
Grew my hair down to my shoulders, fan thought I was Matt Ox
Jump a fence and get my lick back like this The Sandlot
Tell them boys to quit the lying, living life on caps lock

That bitch felt like Wimbledon, fuck around and broke a lil' sweat
Man, what? I'm finna go break the money counter
Don't break your legs slipping behind this drip