They Killed Pookie Hall & Nash

[Intro]
Serious Sounds

[Verse 1: Westside Gunn]
Aye yo
Aye yo, my kicks cost $2000
Same wing for a week, but the money piling
Caught a body up in Webster Hall
I used to battle for commissary, I never lost
The '86 Saab apple sauce (Skrrr)
Fashion Week tiger sweeten up the catalogue
Thought I seen Chine Gun so I got a ghost
One Heckler shot, your brains adios
Chain on the S got chain
Gave the fiends some work, they used the stove, I did my thing
More money bring more pussy
I ain't a rapper, nigga, don't push me
Can't wait to see Bacon one day, somebody die everyday my way
Mister S.E. marvelous, the coupe 300 like Spartacus
I'm from where, your mom's on crack and you're fatherless
The SK, I stuck the cartridge in (Brrrrrt)
Fryin' work in the skillet, mixed with margarine
I'm slaughterin'

[Verse 2: Conway the Machine]
Unfold the AR like a futon
Body you with a suit on like Brother Mouzone
Heh, a thousand pounds of 'Zona straight from Tuscon
My youngin let off a drum from back of a Yukon (Brrt)
Jump out the Phantom, Don C 2 on
Cuban weigh two kilos, I got two on (Hahahaha)
Still reppin' the same blocks that I grew on
Machine, bitch, I kill everything I spew on (Kay)
M-16's with the shell catchers (Uh)
I'll bet you rappin' ass niggas never felt pressure
I like the Concord 11's, but the 12's fresher
Movin' straight drop cuz it sell better (Woo)
We the illest, don't misconstrue, I stay with a bitch or two
Stomp a bone out you in my Christian Lou'
Lift you off your feet, I get the blick and I ain't missin' you (Brrt)
I'm Conway, nigga, every verse a brick or two
My dog knock you down for a half a cake (He'll finish you)
Then run to Atlanta like Pastor Ma$e (Hahahaha)
They gave Don seven for a ratchet case (Free my nigga)
Killa Tone droppin' bodies, he ain't tat his face
I use the G code just to crack the safe (Huh)
Griselda bucket on the rattlesnake (You see 'em)
Fryin' lobster with a glass of grapes
Hall and Nash, we winnin', them niggas had to hate (Hah)
Conway