Some Free

Lyrics
[Verse] (Talk to 'em) Look, a G call and the savages came With automatics to aim tryin' to splatter your brain Clappin' your frame, bullets shatterin' the glass of your Range Catch you backstage at your show, and we yappin' your chain I fishtail the Lamb' drove that in the rain Uh, fishscale the yams when the packages came Uhh, your bitch can tell that I'm stackin' my change I was in the Street Fam sellin' Fabolous 'caine Not rappin' but these niggas not rather the same I been actually tryin' to reframe from smackin' a lame When you hear me on the track you hear the passion and pain You can tell the way I craft it that I mastered the game This kind of shit you ain't built for, get back in your lane Niggas get stabbed in the face for attackin' my name Nigga, breakin' news shit, another rapper is slain Told my goon after the kill bring back your remains, my nigga Some niggas Bloods, and some niggas is Crips Some niggas official, but most of you niggas bitch I ain't here to make friends, you niggas can eat a dick My youngin blood thirsty, he eager to squeeze a clip You sneak a diss, hope we don't peep it 'cause we a flip Let the heater lift you off of feet and we leave you stiff See me in Fifth with a Rican bitch and she is thick Keep a razor in her bag, she givin' your cheek a kiss Cubans weighin' at least a brick Plug like Tony, he bust open a ki to sniff Every other day my trigger finger itch And that's the same hand I write with, Machine is sick I'll bust down a jubilee band Who let you niggas in the studio? You should be banned I can have you whack for, like, maybe two or three bands I'ma get us rich, won't no nigga ruin these plans La Máquina [Outro: Conway the Machine + Sample] Yo, you know what's up, nigga Machine, bitch ("La Máquina!")
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Credits
- Writers
- Conway the Machine