Skit

Lyrics
[Intro: Conway the Machine] Yeah, man, you know what it is, nigga (You already know, man, the fuck?) The Gunn, the Kan', man, listen, might later? really smack the shit outta niggas though, man (Pissed off at niggas, man, on some real shit) Naw, fluck that, clap the shit outta niggas, man, word (Yeah, get the guns up, nigga) [Verse 1: Conway the Machine] Uh, look, niggas feel Kan' cos this shit real, fam Only cop work if it's white, or if it's real tan Sixteen in the clip and one in the chamber Now you hit, screaming like a bitch, I thought you was gangster (Nigga) Laid out bleeding on your kicks, dog, my clap is official Leave the house without your banger, that's when they get you Yo, Lord, my third eye shine bright, blinding your sight You ain't seen this much crime in your life, son It's real out in these fields, every night a nigga get killed I'm outside a club waving a steel, you get your shit peeled Running up on mine, just cos you got a problem with the kid Get at the end of something, cos it's a long line Field boot, Carhartt brown, conceal the four pound Let me know if it's going down, we can get it on right now (Let's do it, yo) Two guns up, I'm wylin' 'til my days is up Attacking on shit, trying to fill them cages up Niggas up north will blaze you in the yard, get your face cut Don't make me have to run in your cage, you fake fucks (You fake fucks) Get your safe touched, I'm straight to the H2 dealer To spend that cake up (yeah), then I'm murking off in that grey truck Twenty fours and screens in it, watching Casino with the team in it We skid spinners (uh), getting high, I'm looking fly Jeans cost five hundred, there's five guns in the trunk Try your luck and get frucked up, what? Gucci aviator glasses, Evisu fabrics, blowing a ratchet Put a hole in you bastards, for practice Told you, homeboy, I'm no average Try to reach my status and get denied access Come home on that jail shit, I'll put a bullet in your helmet Finish you will send you to hell quick, word, this Street Entertainment You can't stop us, dawg, what you think them choppers for? Let's play ball, nigga [Verse 2: Westside Gunn] Ayo, I'm like sports seventy, sliding coupes off the melody Salam, Lord, still on the run from a felony I sold drugs more than half my life, jewellery on I make niggas wanna snatch my ice, word life We got Lex coupes and Beamers over here Pin trigger MACs, bulletproof, ask Premier Handling nines, banana hammers out, son, ten fives Incline-line Cartiers for the summertime Le Tigre Polos on, three Sixties in a Caesar Big Cuban links looking like we crazy on Medallion swing, you're peepin' 'em, Lord Breathing through a ski-mask, killing my own peoples to get cash Fuck 'em, ride through your hood in a Beamer wag', yo Keep the upstate style, fuck Cristal, we drink Henny straight And turn Sly Green wild, million dollar deals on tables Canary face Jesús, swinging off a rose-gold cable Politickin' on OT money, I think Ohio next Kutter just crashed the E-Class, I think I drive the Lex Rolex money since eighteen Having model bitches' titties out, while they cooking up burn clean Trump Plaza, ?, Evisu sagger Doing your Birk' handbagger, crack bags filled with fishscale I do twenty-five to life, as long as I'm rich in jail, A-yo I hold the automatic, these streets where I'm from it's heartless Plus I, like big jewels, and y'all niggas starving Le Roy Ave, throwing money out a Porsche Colourful stones watching Al Capone getting tortured (Uh) Drug dealers, cash rule, nigga, we the illest alive A bunch of fly killers holding up nines I'm used to, standing on the block all day with dimes Salute to, blowing up and pushing Q45's Peace, Lord, Bentley is all, take the ARs on tour And Geordie see the Geordie for pure, big chains on, just Lavado, I ain't a God Since the days with the four, loaded MAC just in case it turned war Body died forty shots and I'm look at the board Since that thirty dollar double-up hustling in front of the store Word, boot in your door, Jesus piece flooded galore Chrome eight-hundred shot his whole face off Faggot
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Credits
- Writers
- Westside Gunn
- Conway the Machine