Conway The Machine - Cooked in Hell's Kitchen lyrics
Conway the Machine [Demond Price] Buffalo, New York. U.S. 🇺🇸
[Conway The Machine - Cooked in Hell's Kitchen lyrics]
Look, Machine bitch I don't back down
Check my background spray your trap down
Fill a nigga back with MAC rounds
Strapped down with the black pound
The serial number scratched down
I could have the killers on attack now
Pull the mask down, five goons
Two at the front, three at the back now
I don't listen to these new
Niggas that rap now
I was out wildin' with a MAC
You was with yo' girl listenin' to Mack Wilds
Fuck these niggas and they rap styles
I murder niggas with this ink
Shit'll get ugly, nigga, black Child
My dog blew his last trial then got sat down
20 flat in the max, he on his way back now
Gas plug in Cali'
I just gotta get a pack now
Send it in the mail
We made it? I can relax now
And let the racks pile
My youngin domed a nigga, right up close
I saw him crack a smile i was in that Ghost
Hatin' niggas saw me stuntin'
They was lookin' like a ghost is
What they saw or somethin'
Shotty tearin' limbs off like
I'm sawin' somethin'
Big gun was lookin' like I'm
Playin' a guitar or somethin'
This nigga talkin' like he offin' somethin'
I'm like you talkin' to a G like
You don't respect your jaw or somethin'
The Nike Kanye tan, he whippin' eight yams
The cook smoke
He whipped this shit for eight grams
Forty in the waistband
Pussy nigga I ain't playin'
No, we ain't playin' wait, you got hit
That was somethin' you ain't plan
Now you need an escape plan
Wait, I know he snake, we don't shake hands
He got his face blammed
Then I went to Ruth's Chris and ate lamb
Chopper make a fuck nigga break dance
Shells got caught in the slide
And made the K jam machine
Check my background spray your trap down
Fill a nigga back with MAC rounds
Strapped down with the black pound
The serial number scratched down
I could have the killers on attack now
Pull the mask down, five goons
Two at the front, three at the back now
I don't listen to these new
Niggas that rap now
I was out wildin' with a MAC
You was with yo' girl listenin' to Mack Wilds
Fuck these niggas and they rap styles
I murder niggas with this ink
Shit'll get ugly, nigga, black Child
My dog blew his last trial then got sat down
20 flat in the max, he on his way back now
Gas plug in Cali'
I just gotta get a pack now
Send it in the mail
We made it? I can relax now
And let the racks pile
My youngin domed a nigga, right up close
I saw him crack a smile i was in that Ghost
Hatin' niggas saw me stuntin'
They was lookin' like a ghost is
What they saw or somethin'
Shotty tearin' limbs off like
I'm sawin' somethin'
Big gun was lookin' like I'm
Playin' a guitar or somethin'
This nigga talkin' like he offin' somethin'
I'm like you talkin' to a G like
You don't respect your jaw or somethin'
The Nike Kanye tan, he whippin' eight yams
The cook smoke
He whipped this shit for eight grams
Forty in the waistband
Pussy nigga I ain't playin'
No, we ain't playin' wait, you got hit
That was somethin' you ain't plan
Now you need an escape plan
Wait, I know he snake, we don't shake hands
He got his face blammed
Then I went to Ruth's Chris and ate lamb
Chopper make a fuck nigga break dance
Shells got caught in the slide
And made the K jam machine