E.I.F. Conway the Machine

[Intro]
Griselda, by Fashion Rebels
Yeah
Uh-huh
Yeah
Spooky shit, nigga
Way too spooky, nigga, look

[Verse 1]
Hard work instead of talent
But I work harder than niggas and I got better talent (That's a fact)
Than any nigga that ever challenged
And tried to knock me off my toes, I had to show him I had better balance
Everybody is food, hoodie fake them diamonds
Get head in Dallas
My bitch thick like Meg Thee Stallion
As you can see, my bread is piling
Still got the elbows flyin' like I'm Randy Savage, uh
Lately the bitches give me more vagina
Niggas thought I was broke so I bought more designer
I wore the kind of shit your ho admire
Luxury foreign driver, pistol possession in all my priors
These niggas all are liars
I know some zoes who'll push your shit from Opa-locka to Fort Myers with carbon fire
A hundred for my line-up
My rich white bitch, her mind was distorted kinda
She snorted imported China (Sniff), yeah
Pop the Taurus and tore a swine up
In front the whole hood, just to give 'em a short reminder
Now I'm in position, I got all kind of people callin' my line
That I ain't see when I was on the climb up (Where was you, nigga?)
I still cop jewels and rock ice
Seen Trig on the news, my dude just got life (Damn)
Rock the Christian Loubs without spikes
My team can't win without me like Bulls without Mike, ah