Montana of 300 came out with his own Panda remix due to the request of his fans. Switching his latest album, Fire in the Church, to May 20th, he delivered with another successful remix. Like every remix he does, he kills the original.
[Intro]
FGE shit
Fire in the Church
And all that
May 20th
This why they call me the fuckin' rap god, man
[Verse 1]
Tony Mon-tana
And bro nem got blown with the blamma
I freed all the guys out the slamma
I came with that bag like I'm Santa
Two straps on my hip like a Pamper
Try to check us, get popped like a Fanta
I will slide with that pole like a dancer
Come up outta that tent like a camper
Dressed up in all black like a panther
I creep and I crawl, no tarantula
Bandana my face in a flag
Choppa singin' the national anthem
I'm shootin' shit, Cannon
The clip's in a shape like banana
He got nailed he wasn't watching his grammar
Bitch I think I'm Thor with the hammer
A.I. what I nicknamed my gun
And yo' question, I stay with the answer
In the field, I will leave yo' ass lyin'
In a hole, you get buried like Sanders
Oh, I could black both of your eyes
Leave your bitch ass lookin' like a panda
I get green like the Hulk, no Atlanta
Right after they check out my lines like a scanner
Got your bitch on my dick, I can't stand her
Hit, now she think she all that like Amanda
Yeah, you know I ball like Evander
And she call me daddy like I'm Danny Tanner
The pussy pink like she fight cancer
I let that bitch give me top on the camera
Went down south on me like Alabama
I came and I made that bitch step like the gamma
[Bridge]
It's too fuckin' easy!
Get off me!
I'm just getting warmed up in this mothafucka'
Wooh!
Wooh!
Wooh!
Wooh!
[Verse 2]
Turned off her phone to make you think that her phone dead
She grabbed my Gucci belt buckle, I told her "Go ahead"
She ate my dick and nicknamed it big Daddy Long Legs
She gave me dome so long, I called her Conehead
You a send-off
You be taking orders, Good Burger nigga
Old broke ass, pockets hurtin', nigga
Is you fat or skinny Buddy Sherman nigga
I discourage niggas, then dirt a nigga
Klay Thompson got the Stephen Curry with 'em
That's a warrior we got with a 30 with 'em
Boy this ain't a game, I ain't Derwin, nigga
Get in rappers' head like a turban, nigga
Make 'em feel the heat like a furnace, nigga
If I wave it at 'em like a current, nigga
Then he catchin' bullets, Michael Irvin, nigga
With his magazine from this ratchet sing
Ain't no calories, I'll burn a nigga
Put yo' greasy ass in a fuckin' box
That's Church's, nigga, I done murdered niggas
If I'm lyin', then God can come strike me down
When I come up they gon' invite me out
Stay online talkin' shit 'till i sign 'em out
Had to check 'em, I took 'em to Nike town
And these bitches, they wanna be wifey now
I just did nine shows, that's ninety thou(sand)
I be drippin', I know they don't like me now
Somebody please come and wipe me down
I'm on the edge, no baseline
With a hoodie on like Trayvon
I'll shorten up your lifespan, I don't waste time to come take time
Black 40 singin', thats Akon
I'm a real shoota, fuck James Bond
No screenshot, my gun flash, all headshots, that's FaceTime
Back to the green, like Draymond
Whoo!
But see me, I don't play no fuckin' games
You a goofy, a Buford, a fuckin' lame
You wanna ride on my dick for some fuckin' fame
Get sent out from your block, that's a fuckin' shame
Even you know you not in my fuckin' lane
I pulled up on you niggas like Birdman
And you know not to play with my fuckin' name
I know God gon' be real disappointed in me
If I choose to come blow out ya fuckin' brains
Do yo' pussy ass like I did What's-His-Name
Take his ass out the fuckin' game
You a toy boy you ain't got Buzz
You ain't hard, nigga you a fake Woody
Cook his soft ass like some baked cookies
Zip his body up like a Bape hoodie
My lyrics dope, I got crack for the fiends
He thought he could see me, he imagining things
Ain't got enough cash to come clash with the king
While you boys was sleepin', I mastered yo' dreams
So swaggin', I'm saucin', with fashion I'm clean
I come through with some shit that you haven't seen
You gotta be sick, all you do is ride dicks
Someone go get this pussy some vaginal cream
They call me Girbauds, got that strap in my jeans
I'm Abdul Jabbar, cause I'm after Kareem
If he crosses the line, then my bullets flyin'
I'll give him a 50 like he Zach Lavine
Boy, you just a actor that rap like Hakeem
Don't make me come down like the wrestler Sting
Take L's like a knight when I slide like a bishop
I'll checkmate your king then snatch up your queen
I'm bout to blow like they passed me the green
Just got a new gat, it's a mac with a beam
My gauge is Fantasia, whenever I sing
Get wet with this pump when I squeeze gasoline
See, when it come down to them bars
Bitch I got a whole buncha' lotta' shit
You can pay for this knowledge with scholarships
Rap god givin' hip hop it's oxygen
They find it astonishing
Every line, he's been prime like he Optimus
Shine like he polished himself
Had to grind to the top and shit
He's been blessed, he's the best
He's like Jordan in '96
FGE who we rockin' with
Record labels mad cause he ain't signin' shit
I thank God that I don't owe nobody shit
Flow with an old soul like a moccasin
Go tell 'Ye that I'm killin Desiigner's shit
I just bear hugged a panda then bodied it
You irrelevant, you talk a lotta shit
You should write a book called "How to Ride a Dick"
Man he fresh, I be on some Big Tymer shit
Bitches hope I slide in with my hockey stick
My 40 got 30 inside of it
It got Mr. Miyagi's karate kick
I'll blast off, shoot you up like a rocket ship
Bullets bust in yo' face like you poppin' zits
With them guns he be clumsy, he droppin' shit
Zip you up like a onesie, I'm poppin' shit
[Outro]
Montana, I'm the Rap God
Every bar's cold, every line hot
Fire in the Church, sorry for the wait
Had to put the panda in a pine box
Squad!
Panda (Remix) was written by Montana of 300.
Panda (Remix) was produced by Menace.
Montana of 300 released Panda (Remix) on Fri May 06 2016.