Conway The Machine, Westside Gunn, Imported Goodz - Untitled Drums lyrics
Conway the Machine [Demond Price] Buffalo, New York. U.S. 🇺🇸
[Conway The Machine, Westside Gunn, Imported Goodz - Untitled Drums lyrics]
Hahaha griselda
Grr, Griselda, man, GxFR griselda
Live from motherfuckin’ East Side
Buffalo, New York, nigga
Ha ha haha, fuckin’ Machine, bitch yeah
What’s poppin’, my nigga it’s Conway
I promise it’s ‘bout to get realer for niggas
Y’all probably not even killers, but
Rap about it in all of your lyrics
This shit is weak
They tellin’ me I’m the illest
I ain’t even hit my peak (Ha)
The hood know I’m official
A pistol in my reach
The grimiest of all time is me, officially
(That’s a fact, homie)
I done got in this bitch and made history
And proved beyond a reasonable doubt
Nobody sick as me they probably sick of me
I’ve been killing’ shit consistently
I don’t give ‘em a chance
To drop nothing, I’m hot, fuck it
(Ha ha ha)
It’s my time right now, you gotta watch
Fucker (Ha)
Just sit back and hate on me
And run your cocksucker (Pussy)
‘Cause that’s all you can do
‘Cause nobody can’t fuck with the
Bars that I spew (Not at all)
MAC-11, let it rain, homie (Brr)
It’s the motherfuckin’ Machine, homie
Uh huh, yeah, look
Crack a cigar, put a safe in it (Smokin’)
Ransack your momma house
It’s just a safe in it g-ride in the hood
Listen to Blakk Tape in it (Uh, huh)
Fifth on me, clap a nigga in his face with it
Uh, closet full of BAPE shit
Supreme fiend, Just Don with the snake brim
(Uh) fifteen hundred for my jeans
AR-15 is gunnin’ at your spleen (Brr)
Yo, what the fuck you niggas mean?
How you think that you could
Fuck with the Machine?
HK with the green beam and the silencer (Ah)
Two to the helmet, close range
That’ll silence him (Doot doot doot)
I might have to straight slap
The shit out of a
Rap nigga to show niggas ain’t
Nobody wild as us (Ah)
They sayin’ we the hardest since ’96
(Uh, huh)
Get out of pocket, you gon’ die quick
(yeah, Machine)
Shit, the fuck is that shit we smokin’?
Blueberry, hit that, that shit gas
Shit, ah, damn, uh
Alright, lemme get back, look
This guy is a machine
I leave you dead where
You standAnd walk through
Your hood with your head in my hands
(Ha ha haha) uh, fair colored tan (Uh)
Free my niggas doin’ 20 in
The feds for the yams (Free the homies)
Yeah, put the potato on the barrel (Okay)
Told you stay in your lane or I’ma air you
I know you got family but
I ain’t tryna hear you
One shot, bullet went clear through
Uh, niggas violatin’ then gotta go (Uh, huh)
Papi throw my bricks, I tell ‘em adios
Give it the hood and then I gotta ghost
Two niggas owe me money, fuck it
Shot ‘em both (Ha)
Every nigga with me, bet they got a body
So if you think it’s a game, go ‘head, nigga
Try me (Go ‘head, nigga)
Put you on the news, nigga
They found out body with
Your fuckin’ head removed, nigga
Alright everyone here we go with your
Final Survival Series report
It is right around the corner
This Wednesday night, Thanksgiving Eve
Exclusively on pay-per-view television, folks
I’m talkin’ about the Survivor Series
This is the ultimate in team competition
And so much so
I strongly suggest you pick up
The blower right now
Get on the phone and contact
Your local cable company
Avoid busy operators at the eleventh hour
Now then
You never gon’ move how I move
You never gon’ think how I think
You know what I’m sayin’?
I could make some Nike shit look like Versace
You know what I’m sayin’?
‘Cause that’s just me
You know what I’m sayin’?
I like it, it’s like- it’s whatever
Fly, hood, gangster, slick talk shit
Brrrt, boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom!
Ayo, cocaine pots lookin’ like Basquiats
On a triple deck yacht coppin’ blocks
Had the orange stripes on the 350s
Get with me hangin’ out the A
Shot the nigga like he Ricky
(Boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom)
45 in the classic Guess with the triangle
Coke spot wrapped around the
Corner like Rayful’s
Took the 7 out, had the baking soda take over
Helmut jaws laid in the pot, let the stove up
Dope money make the world go ‘round
King of my city from down the way to uptown
Ds find your body with a
Bullet in your throat
In all black, Medusa head on the Loss
Y’all niggas broke
Fuck around, a three pound might hit ya
(Boom) my man came home violated in December
See you two years from now
Picture commissary, I’ma hold you down
Heard my nigga Ike about to touch ya
We used to run the yard, you’re times up
7: 30 on the Joe Paul
Griselda, Griselda, Griselda, Griselda
Griselda, Griselda, Griselda, Griselda
Griselda, Griselda, Griselda, Griselda
Griselda, Griselda, Griselda, Griselda
Griselda, Griselda, Griselda, Griselda
Griselda, Griselda, Griselda, Griselda
Griselda, Griselda, Griselda, Griselda
Griselda-Gris-Gris-Gris-Griselda
Uh, Conway, look
Uh, talk to me crazy, see the fifth rise
From my hip then everything in the clip fly
(Boom) uh, see the Maserati zip by (Vroom)
You niggas still bums even when you get fly
(Ah) i’m that nigga, let the streets know
Huh, this rap shit a free throw (Easy, nigga)
Woah, stay pissin’ out the Cliquot (Uh, huh)
Ten bands for your body
But that’s cheap though (Lazy)
That bullshit chain, you can keep those
(Ha ha ha)
A hundred shots ringin’, fuck police though
(Brr) face twisted but the flow
Still a beast though (Uh, huh)
Fuck them niggas hatin’
I’ma still eat though (yeah)
Huh, homie facin’ for the 9 he a builder
Came home like Alex Smith
For the cheap though
Uh, they let me in the game
Now you stuck with me (Huh)
Machine, bitch, nobody can fuck with me
(Woah)
Nobody can fuck with me
Conway, this, this, this conway crazy
Conway is crazy conway is crazy
Like, Conway, Conway, man yeah
Like, is this nigga
Berserk, berserk, berserk, berserk
Can he take it to the next level?
Berserk, berserk, straight up
Berserk, you can’t even fuck with him
He’s crazy
Look, look, look up, uh
This guy is a machine
Gold Rollie with the yellow stones
Shooter sprayin’ up your house
While your mother home catch a body
Throw it out and buy another chrome
(Uh, huh) drive-bys broad day
That’s what the fuck I’m on (Brr)
Silencer on the MAC I use (Doot, doot)
BET Awards, I took a rapper jewels (Ah)
NIggas behind the wall took a rapper shoes
(Run that shit, nigga)
Pussy, that’s my phone, you gotta ask to use
(Uh, huh) resi on the fork still (What)
Two time felon ridin’ with the torch still
(Woo) fuck police, I ain’t trippin’
Fuck nigga think I’m slippin’
Bet I’m leavin’ him a corpse still
(Boom boom)
Shorty rollin’ on a fourth pill (She rollin’)
Fuck rap, I just turned down my fourth deal
(Ha ha haha)
I’m gettin’ money out the streets, nigga (Ha)
I’ma make sure all my niggas eat, nigga
(No cap)
Salute, until the next shit we drop
You heard? Griselda, baby, takin’ over
Griselda, nigga, Conway the Machine, nigga
Gone boom boom boom boom boom boom, brr