Conway The Machine - Jesus Khrysis lyrics
Conway the Machine [Demond Price] Buffalo, New York. U.S. 🇺🇸
[Conway The Machine - Jesus Khrysis lyrics]
Woo, yeah yeah, woo
Woo brrt
Look (Machine, bitch)
You gotta salute me
(Salute me) , I'm in rare form
I'm back in my Devil's Reject bag
You gotta rebuke me (Huh?)
You gotta excuse me, I'm the
New Jim Jones, Capo, and Louis
Don't fuck around, get shot in your kufi
(Boom, boom) i be rockin' this jewelry
Lot of supermodels try to seduce me
All from the shit that I jotted on loose leaf
(Ha ha haha)
And she gon' bring her friend with
Her so I get a two-piece
I usually got the throttle
And the Prada crossbody, i'm Gucci
(What's good, nigga?)
I had rappers in my section tryna
Drink up my bottles like groupies
Ain't no rapper stoppin' my two-three
(Not at all) that's the zone I'm in
I write with a golden pen
But lately, I ain't even been writin'
I just been goin' in (Go in, nigga)
They say the eyes is the windows
To the souls of men
I know some friends pocket watchin'
Plottin' on the dough I spend (I know it)
No driver license, I drove a Benz
Everything I drop an album
Of the year contender, here I go again
(Let's go)
Made a few million, I barely announced it
(Huh?) rappin' better than niggas
I can barely pronounce shit (Ha)
Gettin' to this position was
Like scalin' a mountain now look at me
Weighin' money on the scale when I'm countin'
(Woo, talk to 'em)
We was really whippin' them grams (Huh?)
Really gettin' them bands
Get my lil' sister a Lamb'
I came back to kill these niggas again
Lyrics written in Braille, nigga
You gotta feel it to understand
So when they say, "Who
Iller?" I'm like, "Really
Nigga? You playin'"
You really must be his fan or
Ain't hearin' the shit I'm sayin' (Hah)
Gettin' rich off t-shirts really
Wasn't the plan but every time I drop, I
Reel in two hundred grand, nigga
(You see the bag, right?)
Niggas try blockin' my goals
I'ma make it Messi
(You see what I did there?)
My OG told me, "Gotta kill a
Nigga you love, do it clean
You don't make it messy"
Bells palsy, bitches still say I'm sexy
(Ha ha haha)
Remember I used to go put work in
I would take the Pesci (Huh?)
That's what we call the thirty-eights to
Make sure they respect me (Cap)
Correctional facilities can't correct me
Nigga (Brrt)
Machine, bitch look (yeah)
From King to a GOD, nigga (Brr, brr, brr) ah
Woo brrt
Look (Machine, bitch)
You gotta salute me
(Salute me) , I'm in rare form
I'm back in my Devil's Reject bag
You gotta rebuke me (Huh?)
You gotta excuse me, I'm the
New Jim Jones, Capo, and Louis
Don't fuck around, get shot in your kufi
(Boom, boom) i be rockin' this jewelry
Lot of supermodels try to seduce me
All from the shit that I jotted on loose leaf
(Ha ha haha)
And she gon' bring her friend with
Her so I get a two-piece
I usually got the throttle
And the Prada crossbody, i'm Gucci
(What's good, nigga?)
I had rappers in my section tryna
Drink up my bottles like groupies
Ain't no rapper stoppin' my two-three
(Not at all) that's the zone I'm in
I write with a golden pen
But lately, I ain't even been writin'
I just been goin' in (Go in, nigga)
They say the eyes is the windows
To the souls of men
I know some friends pocket watchin'
Plottin' on the dough I spend (I know it)
No driver license, I drove a Benz
Everything I drop an album
Of the year contender, here I go again
(Let's go)
Made a few million, I barely announced it
(Huh?) rappin' better than niggas
I can barely pronounce shit (Ha)
Gettin' to this position was
Like scalin' a mountain now look at me
Weighin' money on the scale when I'm countin'
(Woo, talk to 'em)
We was really whippin' them grams (Huh?)
Really gettin' them bands
Get my lil' sister a Lamb'
I came back to kill these niggas again
Lyrics written in Braille, nigga
You gotta feel it to understand
So when they say, "Who
Iller?" I'm like, "Really
Nigga? You playin'"
You really must be his fan or
Ain't hearin' the shit I'm sayin' (Hah)
Gettin' rich off t-shirts really
Wasn't the plan but every time I drop, I
Reel in two hundred grand, nigga
(You see the bag, right?)
Niggas try blockin' my goals
I'ma make it Messi
(You see what I did there?)
My OG told me, "Gotta kill a
Nigga you love, do it clean
You don't make it messy"
Bells palsy, bitches still say I'm sexy
(Ha ha haha)
Remember I used to go put work in
I would take the Pesci (Huh?)
That's what we call the thirty-eights to
Make sure they respect me (Cap)
Correctional facilities can't correct me
Nigga (Brrt)
Machine, bitch look (yeah)
From King to a GOD, nigga (Brr, brr, brr) ah