Murder He Wrote Conway the Machine & Trillmatic (Ft. Rome Streetz)

[Intro: Conway the Machine]
Trillmatic, what up?

[Verse 1: Conway the Machine]
Look
Street shit, we still at it
Trillmatic, I peel cabbage when I dump steel at it
Heh, if I want it trust me I will have it
Told you I'm the Machine, fuck how you feel faggot
Yeah, pack cookies in the dutch
Every city I go I got pussy I can fuck
Trust, you don't wanna push me, I am nuts
Get to emptying this chopper, make you pussy niggas duck
STK, I ain't come for the steak
Glass of cold grapes, two lobster tails on my plate
Yeah, $100 tip
Machine gun that hold like a hundred in the clip
I hope one of you pussy niggas tempt me
I'm squeezing this bitch til it's empty
Masked up, nobody knew what I did
You just snapped, back blew off your head
It's the Machine motherfucker

[Verse 2: Rome Streetz]
Ayo, chеck
No script, these hoes watch mе, guess my life is like a movie
I was living trife, now I'm with your wife in the jacuzzi
Got a bunch of dead slave masters folded in my Subi's
Thirty black talons loaded in the Uzi, bold and unruly
Murder he wrote on a loose leaf
Had the hoes loose off the blow and the Lucy, butt-naked playing Juicy
It was all a dream, over the digital, not the triple-beam
The workers crystalline, turned it to cash now I'm sitting clean
Feasting on $300 plates, you cooking Sizzlean
Shit these niggas drop is a disgrace, I make em kiss the ring
Shoot the crown off the wig of the king
And let my little niggas dig through his pockets and flee the scene
Where I'm from death is always 'round the corner if your skin black
I went from jail cells to big stacks now that I sling raps
Now we lit nigga, fuck outta here