Conway - Bang lyrics

Featuring ,

Published

0 754 0

Conway - Bang lyrics

[Intro: Conway the Machine] Yeah (Brr), uh (Brr, brr, brr) (Brr, brr, brr) Machine (Brr) It's not a game, ni**a (Brr, brr) It's not a fu*kin' game, ni**a (Brr, brr, brr) Look, look [Verse 1: Conway the Machine] Ayo, I use the Arm & Hammer just to fluff my brick Say what I wanna say and I don't give a fu*k, I'm rich (Ahh) Tuck my fifth, don't hesitate to bust my sh*t I tell you ni**as like Kyrie, "su*k my dick" (Hahahaha) I don't trust a soul, I don't even trust my b*tch (Uh-uh) Before I fall in love, I'd rather cut my wrist (Ahh) I sweat Ace of Spades, ni**a, that's how much I sip Body a rap ni**a quick before the Dutch got twist (Ayo, let's roll somethin') Yeah, the shotty ring, this sh*t is not a thing (Uh-huh) The chopper make your body lean, my ni**as body things (Brr) Uh, I'm with the jackboys, I'm with the robbin' team (Uh-huh) On my mama, I never rocked a pair of Robin jeans (Hahahaha) Everything I jot is mean, how you gon' stop Machine? My name, it probably ring like Las Vegas slot machines The MAC by my pelvis in my Helmut Lang (Uh-huh) The shells'll bang, make everything outta your helmet hang Uh, the mayo jar was Hellmans when I swirled the 'caine Then I wrapped the yayo up in cellophane (Woo) My shooter got Dame Lillard from the elbow aim I thought of that while I was courtside at the Melo game (Ahh) Bricks are off-white, I imported some (Uh-huh) Whippin' all night until the mornin' come (All night, ni**a) Still pitchin' long nights until my fortune come That's big checks on the side like the Off-White Jordan 1s [Chorus: Conway the Machine] Ayo, they think this sh*t a game, ni**a (This sh*t a game, ni**a) Ayo, they think this sh*t a game (This sh*t a game, oh word?) Ayo, they think this sh*t a game Until I pull up, let it ring (Let it ring) Until I pull up, let it ring (Let it ring) Until I pull up, let it ring Ayo, they think this sh*t a game, ni**a (This sh*t a game, ni**a) Ayo, they think this sh*t a game (This sh*t a game, huh?) Ayo, they think this sh*t a game Until I pull up, let it bang, ni**a (Let it bang, ni**a) Until I pull up, let it bang (Let it bang) Until I pull up, let it– [Verse 2: Eminem] I used to be a man of the people Hit the clubs and mingle (What up?) Used to dream one day I'd be fu*kin' pink like a flamingo (Pink) That was back when I smoked Canibus Man, but it was tough, 'cause I was a fan of his So it su*ked to hand him his ass, but Yeah, lookin' back on my feuds How me and Ja Rule almost got cool 'Cause we shot pool back in '01 Was it '02? I don't know, but Something told me fu*kin' not to Then we got stuck in high school, I shoved an Oscar up his wazoo Yeah, but I think of the rappers I slayed and buried like every night And every career I might've killed, sometimes I say a prayer and I Wonder is there a heaven for a G? And if so, is the sanctuary nice? Studios for rap like Coolio, shootin' craps at gangster's paradise Huh, here a mic, there a mic Everywhere a mic, share and share alike But just don't compare alike Instead of comparin' me, pick a fair fight Compare me to lightnin', that similarity's strikin' Compare me to Jaws Compare me to Manson, Marilyn or Charles Compare me to Nas, Biggie, or Pac Do not compare me to that Iggy b*tch Or all this fu*kin' Milli Vanilli hip-hop This is where all that silly sh*t stops Compare me to the pistol that triggered this thought The semi, the Glock, 9 millis get co*ked, I'm sending a shot Don't come around with them floss raps tryna stunt Compare me to Meek, big wheelies get popped One by one, compare 'em to scabs, I'm picking them off They're going home to fu*k Nicki Minaj, aw Compare me to Diggity Daz, yah I'm hickity-hitting it raw, ha In the trailer park (Haha) Told her I'd play the part like Kanan Stark's Ate her twat like a Tater Tot, oh sh*t Get the strap like a trainin' bra Lunchtime like at eight-o'clock But Shady's not for the faint of heart Goin' at these pricks like Lorena Bobbitt Y'all want drama, we can make a scary movie like Marlon Wayans Y'all lookin' at the charred remains of Charlamagne tha God Slim whip, Westside, and Conway are not playin' I co*k back, aim, and I spray ya like (Bang)