Yeah. [Yeah]
Turn that sh** up some
Not bad
I want to feel it in my soul my n***a
Gotta give these n***as that gospel ya feel me
Machine, b**h
Griselda, n***a
You know what I hate though?
It's always one of you bum a** n***as that be talking all wreckless like ya'll n***as really live that life
Like ya'll n***as really bout that, n***a
Put one of you n***as on a t-shirt n***a
For real n***a
I'm from the hood n***a
[Verse 1: Conway the Machine]
All I see is bodies
Everybody that got a body where I'm from
Get a strap from somebody, there's probably a body on the gun
My little shooters will body anybody under the sun
One n***a mention my name
Everybody getting the drum
For fun
Look
I don't let a f** n***a by me
Cuz they just wanna be under a King, like Kyrie
n***as took the Love out the game like Olynyk
So use your head, n***a, before you get a hole in it. [For Real]
50 shot fold ups, I unload the sh**
Have n***as running and ducking and jumping over sh**
I pull up on you, it's over with
In one year, I watched my brother take over sh**
G-Star Raw, Balmain moto sh**
Hibachi filet and shrimp, my Kyoto dish
Your cuban hollow, your rollie tick
I'm doing drive-bys dolo, I'm a soloist!
Even if it's broad day outside, I'm still letting off the K outside
n***a I'm shooting like Klay outside
Cuz everyday a n***a's gun spray outside
And I ain't trying to lay outside
I'm from the hood where the G's sell yay outside
It could be 4 in the morning, n***a they outside
Kick his door down, rob the n***a barefaced
Blow his fitted on the back hall staircase
Now his baby mama got the scared face
She gonna take me to their safe
You ain't a fly n***a, everything you wear fake
Rocking Fashion Rebels letterman, the sleeves are rare snake
My dawg got a rackateer case
Taking it to trial, I hope he get a fair shake
And you rap n***as disgust me
One of the illest out, you've gotta discuss me
Good kid, but I let the streets corrupt me
f** around, your life gonna come to an end abruptly
I'm that n***a I must be
f** a b**h once, and now she trying to cuff me
You ain't a shooter, you're gun dusty
Black tape on the handle, the .38 rusty. [Pow pow pow]
f** these n***as talking about?
Ayo Daringer man, I got these n***as, man
Conway the Machine, S-E Gang n***a, Griselda b**h
You know how I do, you know how I play, westside what's popping n***a
Yeah, yeah