[Verse 1: Conway]
Look, my brother ain't gotta rap no more, I got it covered
You see we bringin' these streets back, you gotta love it
Niggas clapped me, that's why the ratchet I gotta lugg' it
Told Camino bring a lot of dutches while I jot a fuckin' classic
I got me a badder Rollie, I got it flooded
Bitches love me like LL when I rock the bucket
Don't think it's sweet, I'll have this chopper bustin' out in public
Empty the stick, broad day, niggas said I was buggin'
We got this shit poppin' without a budget
When you speak the best in the game, my name you gotta discuss it
The yoppa Russian', you said it's a problem, let's get to the bottom of it
Then shots erupted, fuck it
Tesla X with the doors lifted
More Steroids, that's more sickness
More her-on and more bricks in
More AK's with 30 shots or more clips in (talk to 'em)
The Lord is my witness
Heard the homie was snitchin', but shit that ain't my man
Sometimes you gotta cut off a finger to save your hand
Damn, hate to see his face or even shake his hand
Sometimes I wanna have him clapped, it only take a grand
Look, I'll embarrass you on your block
Stomp you bloody in my Balenciaga low tops
I whip a whole block, in momma’s old pots
Uhh, cocaine resi' on momma stove top, Machine bitch
Look, my brother ain't gotta rap no more, I got it covered
You see we bringin' these streets back, you gotta love it
Niggas clapped me, that's why the ratchet I gotta lugg' it
Told Camino bring a lot of dutches while I jot a fuckin' classic
I got me a badder Rollie, I got it flooded
Bitches love me like LL when I rock the bucket
Don't think it's sweet, I'll have this chopper bustin' out in public
Empty the stick, broad day, niggas said I was buggin'
We got this shit poppin' without a budget
When you speak the best in the game, my name you gotta discuss it
The yoppa Russian', you said it's a problem, let's get to the bottom of it
Then shots erupted, fuck it
Tesla X with the doors lifted
More Steroids, that's more sickness
More her-on and more bricks in
More AK's with 30 shots or more clips in (talk to 'em)
The Lord is my witness
Heard the homie was snitchin', but shit that ain't my man
Sometimes you gotta cut off a finger to save your hand
Damn, hate to see his face or even shake his hand
Sometimes I wanna have him clapped, it only take a grand
Look, I'll embarrass you on your block
Stomp you bloody in my Balenciaga low tops
I whip a whole block, in momma’s old pots
Uhh, cocaine resi' on momma stove top, Machine bitch
Comments (0)
The minimum comment length is 50 characters.
Information
Users of Guests are not allowed to comment this publication.
There are no comments yet. You can be the first!