Conway The Machine - Biscotti Biscuit lyrics
Conway the Machine [Demond Price] Buffalo, New York. U.S. 🇺🇸
[Conway The Machine - Biscotti Biscuit lyrics]
Violate the mob I got a
Bullet witcha name on it
Them niggas talking when I seen 'em
No they ain't want it
They say they pulling up tonight
Well bitch I ain't running
And I ain't worried 'bout your gun
You ain't gon' spray nothing
I'll have my youngen kick his door
And they gon' take something
Pistol whip you with this
Forty tryna break something
I'll pull up in the hood from
Dutchess left the wraith running
A Nigga run up i'ma fucking violate something
I'm drinking yak
Smoking Gorilla Glue number four
I don't fuck with you so
What you want number for?
I probably wouldn't even answer
If you fucking called
I'm with your bitch I'm sticking dick
All in her fucking jaw
That little bread you saving homie
That's my sneaker money
I could've went and bought a
Rollie with my feature money
I heard them niggas dissing
Heard them niggas reaching for me
Well I stay with a couple shooters
They gon' squeeze it for me
Backwood, got Biscotti in it
The Maybach got the shotty in it
It's laying on the back seat
I hope a nigga wanna see
What's popping with it
Blowing thick clouds in the clouds
I took over the game I know my mama proud
Look at me now
I know my old bitch hate to look at me now
Nigga fuck all the talking
If you want you can get it
Fifty rounds in this chopper and bitch
I want you to feel it
Ask around about Machine
They say I'm one of the realest
Told that bitch "get that pussy ready
I'm coming to kill it"
You wasn't using your head
So I'm coming to peel it
You got hate in your blood
So bitch I'm coming to spill it
I had that crack in the kitchen
I whipped it up in the skillet
I know my style is too wavy
Them niggas wanting to steal it
I paid a rack for my britches
Two stacks for my slippers
I might just run in Blue Flame
And throw a few racks on the strippers
I'm like ten stacks past them
With my passionate vision
All my niggas get the cash
And like that's a religion
Everything I rap about believe
I actually did it (That's facts)
Go and ask 'em boy, I'm
Really 'bout that action, i'm with it
Blowing thick clouds in the clouds
Busting bricks down since a child machine
Backwood, got Biscotti in it
The Maybach got the shotty in it
It's laying on the back seat
I hope a nigga wanna see
What's popping with it
Blowing thick clouds in the clouds
I took over the game I know my mama proud
Look at me now
I know my old bitch hate to look at me now
Bullet witcha name on it
Them niggas talking when I seen 'em
No they ain't want it
They say they pulling up tonight
Well bitch I ain't running
And I ain't worried 'bout your gun
You ain't gon' spray nothing
I'll have my youngen kick his door
And they gon' take something
Pistol whip you with this
Forty tryna break something
I'll pull up in the hood from
Dutchess left the wraith running
A Nigga run up i'ma fucking violate something
I'm drinking yak
Smoking Gorilla Glue number four
I don't fuck with you so
What you want number for?
I probably wouldn't even answer
If you fucking called
I'm with your bitch I'm sticking dick
All in her fucking jaw
That little bread you saving homie
That's my sneaker money
I could've went and bought a
Rollie with my feature money
I heard them niggas dissing
Heard them niggas reaching for me
Well I stay with a couple shooters
They gon' squeeze it for me
Backwood, got Biscotti in it
The Maybach got the shotty in it
It's laying on the back seat
I hope a nigga wanna see
What's popping with it
Blowing thick clouds in the clouds
I took over the game I know my mama proud
Look at me now
I know my old bitch hate to look at me now
Nigga fuck all the talking
If you want you can get it
Fifty rounds in this chopper and bitch
I want you to feel it
Ask around about Machine
They say I'm one of the realest
Told that bitch "get that pussy ready
I'm coming to kill it"
You wasn't using your head
So I'm coming to peel it
You got hate in your blood
So bitch I'm coming to spill it
I had that crack in the kitchen
I whipped it up in the skillet
I know my style is too wavy
Them niggas wanting to steal it
I paid a rack for my britches
Two stacks for my slippers
I might just run in Blue Flame
And throw a few racks on the strippers
I'm like ten stacks past them
With my passionate vision
All my niggas get the cash
And like that's a religion
Everything I rap about believe
I actually did it (That's facts)
Go and ask 'em boy, I'm
Really 'bout that action, i'm with it
Blowing thick clouds in the clouds
Busting bricks down since a child machine
Backwood, got Biscotti in it
The Maybach got the shotty in it
It's laying on the back seat
I hope a nigga wanna see
What's popping with it
Blowing thick clouds in the clouds
I took over the game I know my mama proud
Look at me now
I know my old bitch hate to look at me now