Conway The Machine - Wraith-Ful lyrics

Conway the Machine [Demond Price] Buffalo, New York. U.S.

[Conway The Machine - Wraith-Ful lyrics]

So wassup? Help yourself
No thanks
You heard what the man said, motherfucker
Clean your plate, now

Blow a nigga face off
I never hesitate to let it spray off
My bitch sniffing straight raw
Sniff an eighth till her face fall
I tell her to clean the plate off
You new niggas I hate y'all
You fuck niggas still workin' wit an 8 ball
I had ya corner yellow taped off
Let V-Live pull the Wraith off

Told shorty order the lobster
Never been in a movie
Front row at the Oscar's
You can tell I'm gangster by my posture
Hit a nigga 10 times wit the chopper
Hustlin out this lil bitch house, Tasha
300 racks stashed in the washer
My bitch looking like a goddess
She find solace in croc
Birkin's and blood bottoms
She do whatever I say
She ain't gon break a promise
I say I'm that nigga, really I'm being modest
The kinda nigga you should praise more
Everything I put out, the bar raise more
I needed to save more, so I made more
Kush trap in Atlanta jumping like Bazemore
I show them niggas what the K's for
Knew he was dead, but I put
One more in his head, i made sure

Blow a nigga face off
I never hesitate to let it spray off
My bitch sniffing straight raw
Sniff an eighth till her face fall
I tell her to clean the plate off
You new niggas I hate y'all
You fuck niggas still workin' wit an 8 ball
I had ya corner yellow taped off
Let V-Live pull the Wraith off
Let V-Live pull the Wraith off

I been thru it, all my scars are the proof
I sold raw on the stoop
Now it's BET awards in a suit
Cracking cigars sitting underneath the
Stars in the roof
But I'm still thanking God for all that he do
Got shot
Bell's palsy so my jaw wouldn't move now I
Can outrap your whole squad and ya crew
Or whatever you wanna call it, y'all garbage
It's true
I'm that nigga when it come to this
I thought that you knew it don't matter
Old nigga or an artist is new
He ain't a target
But I promise I will slaughter him too
I had a lot of dreams
Now it's like all of them true
Designer shit in my closet, baby
All of this new half a block on the table
She put her nose in it she pop the chopper
I show the bitch how to hold that shit
Fire out the nozzle
Smoking sour sippin PJ out the bottle

Blow a nigga face off
I never hesitate to let it spray off
My bitch sniffing straight raw
Sniff an eighth till her face fall
I tell her to clean the plate off
You new niggas I hate y'all
You fuck niggas still workin' wit an 8 ball
I had ya corner taped off
Let V-Live pull the Wraith off

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