Montana of 300 – LeBron James (Instrumental) (Prod. By Bug Mega)

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Montana of 300 – LeBron James (Instrumental)
(Produced By Bug Mega)


LeBron James Lyrics by Montana of 300


Before these millions that I made off bein’ Godly on these beats
I been a beast, was really in these streets, had pounds in my Caprice
Had niggas’ BM’s tryna axe cuz I got money like I’m Meech
Case niggas tripped, had Nina on my hip, .25 inside my wheats
Got a tattoo in my fuckin’ face, a teardrop I done weeped
Had to son ’em like Ray-Ray, like Hoover Deuce, I keep a piece
I kicked some doors, I had to breach
You niggas dissed, now they deceased
How I keep iron in my pants, you’ll think I’m tryna make a crеase
I’m like Freddy, bitch, don’t go to sleep, TLC, I creep
Killas at thе front and back case he run outside like a sweep
Walk up on him, cannons camera-ready, call that ‘meet n greet’
And if his homies keep on talkin shit, his dawg’s next like a leash
I’m the butcher, please bring me that beef
You get popped like you grease, ain’t nothin’ sweet
The .40 hold a dick, just like a pair of briefs
Take his soul, then go change my clothes, I’m talkin’ fly, no beak
I’m chasin’ dreams while they been hatin’ on me, I feel Iike I’m Meek
On my soul, they couldn’t fill my shoes, like a pair of cleats
Might fuck your girl, tell that bitch to drop and call that incomplete
I let her ride me till she fuckin’ cum, I call that mountain peak
She go down low after we bump and grind, remind me of my Jeep
Hoo-hoo, I’m rock hard, she wet as a creek
I’m good with the steel, like a thief
I’m good with the Tech, call me ‘Nique
I am a lion, they sheep
I’ll leave ’em lyin’ in sheets, whoo
From Monday to Sunday, they weak
I’m out this world, out they reach
Who fuckin’ with me? Nobody, boy don’t get it twisted
I’m drippin like sweat, I ain’t Keith, hoo-hoo
Bitch, I ain’t nothin’ nice I ain’t bein’ mean
Had these bitches on D, I might need a screen
I pull up in this foreign, your whore will get right
And yeah, she know the script, it ain’t Stephen King
Shoutout to FGE, we the team
Mine is so real, I don’t even dream
I ain’t gotta cheat, but how every punch goin’ nuts
The ref’ told me to keep it clean
When I win, it’s the end, call it Wednesday
Toolie put two in his head, call it Tuesday
Let me make myself clear like I’m Blu-Ray
Put that piece to his top, like a toupée
I like to creep when they sleepin’
You better hope that you’re up, like the UK
I’m drippin’ like water, you better be cool or get hit with this 9
Bobby Boucher [pronounced BOO-shay]
The illest nigga ever since Wayne
Plus I got some shit that could fix pain
These niggas don’t got they bitch trained
I’m that nigga I don’t gotta spit game
My pockets swole-er than Ving Rhames
Whenever I storm in, I drip rain
I’m Jordan on you, in them shoes, I’m in Louboutin’s
Spikes on the side, like a Knicks game
Execute ’em, never exchange
Executin’, never explain
I been takin’ shit out like the Grinch came
No Nick Cannon, I use to let sticks bang
While I sold Mary Jane, like I’m Rick James
I was straight thuggin, baby, like Rich Gang
I still keep it a buck and ain’t shit change
Tech 9 on my hip if shit gets strange
‘Bout to kill shit, so the steel grip, like a film strip, how the clip hang
Ike Turner, let the bitch sang
Now his homies blue, no Crip gang
Niggas used to play till them bodies dropped
I got clean on they ass, nigga, body wash
Gloves on, steel on, these [?] when Rocky boxed
Yeah, I took ’em out soon as I saw ’em slippin’, like refs when 2 players in hockey box
Yeah, you heard what I said, I done left niggas dead, Nina spit at they head, call that sloppy top
Fuck niggas pretend to be hard
When they know that they really be fraud
If you like to play games then I’m slidin’
I’ve [?] race, like a memory card
Don’t be scared, you gon get to meet God
Angel, show ’em where the gates at
Magnum on me, not the latex
Always kill ’em with the straight facts
If my son got a game, I got soldiers there
Like a strip club we got poles in there
I will change a nigga, not on a spare
Man, your favorite rappers, they don’t compare
Rap God, a cold day in hell, if I go they gon think it was snowin there
Bitch I’m from the [?], where it’s cold at
My mom was off white, like a polar bear
I felt kinda happy when she go to jail, cuz I knew she was safe and was sober there
She got out, I took her on a shoppin’ spree
Told her shop like she never had clothes to wear
Watch me ball at the top like Hulk Hogan head
Yo’ bitch wet as a pool, yeah, I dove in there
I pulled it out and I put it down
Shawty sat on my dick like a foldin’ chair
She bring me that pussy with no draws
She know that Kit-Kat’ll get broke off
Every show I do dope, nigga, Snowfall
Don’t try to hold me, you gon’ fall
Although I’m ballin, it ain’t shit to travel and then do ’em foul, like it’s no calls
Bitch, I walk with a stick, and I don’t mean a cane, but I stay with that thang, like I’m O-Dawg
Make ’em pay while I teach ’em, like colleges
Got a check and a strap, like [?]
I’m FGE till the fuckin’ end
I couldn’t switch sides