Latex Gloves Conway the Machine & 38 Spesh (Ft. Lloyd Banks)

[Intro: Conway the Machine]
(Trust)
Trust

[Verse 1: Conway the Machine]
Look
Wrapped in chinchilla to the ankle bone (You know the fly shit)
I'm that nigga, now I'm just gon' make it known (I'm that nigga)
My dawg caught a body bustin' Draco chrome (Huh?)
They gave him life behind them prison gates, he can't go home
I get the yayo gone, break a whole one down and make a zone (No cap)
'Cause in these streets, I'm a motherfuckin' staple on
He say he the king? Well, Machine come to take his throne
Take over the game like I'm Jordan when he played Malone (Talk to 'em)
Spray the MAC-10s outta black Benz (Brr-r-r)
He dropped his Cartis runnin' from it, got a cracked lens (Ahahaha)
Mama gone for days, been on a crack binge (No cap)
Walked to Granny house, she got a packed fridge (Granny)
Been about that action since the older days (Huh?)
Niggas puttin' bodies on the throwaways (Boom boom boom boom boom boom boom)
Latex gloves on when we loadin' Ks (Brr-r-r)
Ha, yeah

[Verse 2: Lloyd Banks]
Uh, you should know what time we on
Expectations that's highly wrong
Kicked a hole in the game before
Multiple feuds by time he gone
Gotta be strong when you're poppin', the paparazzi forms
Sliders singin' in your local precinct like Omarion
Came a ways to get here and make it to a rocky arm
Careful, had to stash the rocket by the ocky jawn
Hermes on my way to the tomb, Versace-borne
You would think I'm repeatin' shit, I got several copies for 'em
Hatin' ain't gon' stop me, prob'ly wish me body harm
Hand off to my dumbout, get his kamikaze on
There'll always be forks in the road, this Maserati's for 'em
Y'all rap careers ain't workin' out, a bunch of sloppy songs
Quiet storms and beautiful murders for oxymoron
We in the town, there's vehicles houndin' and lobby swarms
They don't play, that's why we armed
Every day, a body's drawn
Duck the criminal, the one your baby mom eyes be on