Fanta 6 Bronze Nazareth (Ft. Fashawn)

[Verse 1: Fashawn]
The savage of Nazareth flashin' the gold Lazarus
My flow patterns alone should be shown at the Vatican (Yes sir)
Holy guacamole
Marci got me rappin' over Rock and Roll beats
Went and put Plymouth rocks in the rollie (Bling!)
Fuck a gram I'm bout to drop a OZ
Big baldheads probably Mobi, not an emoji (Nah)
You was gettin' at me when you got at the OGs (Fuck is wrong with you?)
Slide on you like it's too late to side with the homies
They tried to control me, failed miserably
They tried to silence me slowly, copied and hit delete
I stand guilty, uh, my hands filthy
Make every rhyme echo through time, y'all can't kill me

[Verse 2: Bronze Nazareth]
Ay
Vincent van Different Glance
Mansa Musa Clan
Gogh gift his hands
Crescent moon rocks
Kitchen plans
Cricket bat stick, grand amazon land
Let the world see my grams and exam
Pretty clam with Mauritian tan, is how I expand
From the afterlife, Sushimi slice the track like a psychopath
Give me space like Bezos and a white lightning plant
I got heightened plans, nigga, I'm climbing like my FICO stamp
Smithsonian poet, suicidal bridal lambs
Half a ounce rolled in brown, boy, that’s Otto Graham's
Cabo to France, cauliflower smoke chowder clams
It's gritty like a wind gust of powder sand