30 Shots

Lyrics

[Intro] Statik Selektah [Verse 1: Chris Rivers & Conway the Machine] So momma don't you cry now Daddy broke the motherfuckin' mold so I'ma try now I never fold, I never lost control, I never lied down I proved that I'm the nicest, never say it- that's implied now That's why I fought, hold it down for the ex like child support Couldn't buy a metro, do you realize how much miles I walked? Busted shoes, runnin' through these hoods like, n****, what's the rules? Never moved no weight but got my weight up, then I muscled through Breakfast, lunch and dinner- ain't have food that's what balance for There's n***** with some screws loose, like what you think the hammer's for? N***** fake, they [?], they like a tattle-all I'm chosen when I wrote this higher focus like I'm adderall Had had-me-downs, so pass me down the crown, I made my granny proud Get nicked with cannons if you ever happen to be actin' wild I ain't the one to fuck with, simply put I simply am the one, bunch of number twos They tried to test, I simply answered them (I got it right here, slime) It's Rivers [Verse 2: Conway the Machine] Thirty shots make him scurry, n**** (Brrr) I'll be a G until I'm buried, n**** (Facts) He think he the rap LeBron, well I'm Curry, n**** Whip a nine, pot fork was still dirty, n**** (Woo) I'm just different, my records is excellent Lexus is fresh, Benz's Clips in the TECs was extended Yes, it's The Machine, I feel I'm the best GxF[R], The Reject, it's like the fuckin' New Testament, ayo (Hahaha) I ain't no regular rapper, I will slap you like a bitch, homie, your head'll spin backwards Matter fact, I'm way better than rappers They records trash, they dressin' like faggots and raidin' the medicine cabinet They pop pills, I'm poppin' the steel— I'm lettin' 'em have it I'm better than average, I'm a legend when I craft it (Huh?) Tool on the waist, my shooters don't tat tears for a body, he wouldn't have no more room on his face It's The Machine, n**** [Verse 3: Termanology] We legends in rap, we got this shit locked In the whip, bent, listenin' to Chris' pops Sippin' Möet and Dom, while the Cris' pops My cousin sniff a lot, then he hit the opps And dash off, laughin' hysterically On a hater- I'll spaz and dap 'em generically And ask for the energy, you could get the strap Got 'em holdin' me back, like I did bad academically Swing on you, pronto Look me in your face like Rondo Chop your head off in The Gong Show Hit the cigar slow, whip out the car show God fearin', but I'll still rip out your heart, though When I was rhymin' in the cypher with Fresh, y'all was sittin' 'round ridin' the bench No, I ain't impressed You tired and stressed, I be dressin' fire and fresh Swear to God, I even ironed my sweats It's me 'Ology