Westside Gunn, Meyhem Lauren, Conway The Machine, Hologram - Thousand Shot Mac lyrics
Conway the Machine [Demond Price] Buffalo, New York. U.S. 🇺🇸
[Westside Gunn, Meyhem Lauren, Conway The Machine, Hologram - Thousand Shot Mac lyrics]
Yeah, uh huh yo, yeah, uh
Flossin' up at Harry Rosen
I stacked fifty last week
I'm 'bout to spend a portion
Never divorcin' with this life so
I'ma die in gold i abide the code
Meanwhile, your cats divide, fold
Told and got paroled
I ain't callin' you out
Just cross the street where you see me
Change the channel 'fore I smack
You through the TV
From half a gram to a hand-to
Hand for a half a gram
Now it's trenchcoats imported from
Japan and Amsterdam
I have to plan to keep it goin'
Life is like an escalator
You're counterfeit and I'm the marker
Used to test the paper
We both in the buildin'
I'm on a higher floor
The bitches that y'all niggas wife
I use to test the raw
Analyze my resume before you test the water
Don't make me have to fly in
Shooters from across the border
Eatin' celery root and pear bisque
With some rare fish
Uh, I no longer have to risk it
Chillin' in the bodega like I'm a mystic
Ayo, you ain't never met a nigga
Like me in your life (Ah)
C-Os popped the lock
I'm on the yard with the knife (Ah)
Money on ya head
What's the price? What's the price?
Cooked the whole brick
Kitchen ain't had no light (Ah)
We up at 1-OAK, with the pipe on (Pipe on)
The Tom Ford bomber, it was python
(It was python)
My Chi Town shooter, he a Vice Lord
Why God had to make me so nice for? (Ah)
I'm at the Luxor, the coke on the cut board
Bakin' soda, what the fuck for? The rice
With the duck sauce
Gut shots'll drop his lunch off
(Boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom)
He ain't dead yet? Had to blow
His head the fuck off
(Boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom)
I'm in the mess hall Thursday eatin'
Chicken with the drug lords
Wholesale, oh well i know they fresh off, I
Just seen the boat sail, bulgari coattail
(Ah)
My first gone three weeks with no shells
Been shootin' ever since, you know me well
You know me well (Brr, brr)
I had a brown-skin girl
Same color as my Dutch (Uh, huh)
She said, "Holie, go drag your nuts"
(Drag your nuts)
She queef melodically, in Greek mythology
Nike is the goddess of victory
And that lit to me (We lit)
The weed has a litany, the side effects
They get to me that shit ain't shit to me
(That shit ain't shit)
I get higher than a war drone in a war zone
I should win awards, bro, and go on tour, ho
(Woo)
My niggas on the west side got they guns
And Mey came through with a box of ones
That's a day trip to Vegas, we stay lit
Hit wages the day is outrageous
I'm pullin' twelve gauges
Niggas in yo' bushes
They waitin' to let the K smoke
The shooter had to sniff a fifty
Just so he could stay woke (Sniff)
You niggas ain't got no ambition
So y'all gon' stay broke
Why you think I'm in this
Trap kitchen tryna weigh coke? (Whip it up)
Shit, it's either that or I slip
The teller a bank note
My dog just came home, he on parole
So he can't smoke like Bishop in Juice
Three fifty-seven by the ankle
Nigga get outta pocket
I'm sendin' God back a angel
(Boom, boom, boom, boom)
I used to get the boy from the Spanish nigga
Pedro (Hah)
I'm self made
I ain't need to sign to a record label
(Ha ha haha)
Yeah, out on Rodeo pushin' Scaglietti
Geiger double-O twos
Wear your gloves when you baggin' fetti
(Hah)
Who's the better rapper? I haven't met him
Have my little savage wet him (Brr)
I hope your mama got a casket ready
(Boom, boom, boom)
Flossin' up at Harry Rosen
I stacked fifty last week
I'm 'bout to spend a portion
Never divorcin' with this life so
I'ma die in gold i abide the code
Meanwhile, your cats divide, fold
Told and got paroled
I ain't callin' you out
Just cross the street where you see me
Change the channel 'fore I smack
You through the TV
From half a gram to a hand-to
Hand for a half a gram
Now it's trenchcoats imported from
Japan and Amsterdam
I have to plan to keep it goin'
Life is like an escalator
You're counterfeit and I'm the marker
Used to test the paper
We both in the buildin'
I'm on a higher floor
The bitches that y'all niggas wife
I use to test the raw
Analyze my resume before you test the water
Don't make me have to fly in
Shooters from across the border
Eatin' celery root and pear bisque
With some rare fish
Uh, I no longer have to risk it
Chillin' in the bodega like I'm a mystic
Ayo, you ain't never met a nigga
Like me in your life (Ah)
C-Os popped the lock
I'm on the yard with the knife (Ah)
Money on ya head
What's the price? What's the price?
Cooked the whole brick
Kitchen ain't had no light (Ah)
We up at 1-OAK, with the pipe on (Pipe on)
The Tom Ford bomber, it was python
(It was python)
My Chi Town shooter, he a Vice Lord
Why God had to make me so nice for? (Ah)
I'm at the Luxor, the coke on the cut board
Bakin' soda, what the fuck for? The rice
With the duck sauce
Gut shots'll drop his lunch off
(Boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom)
He ain't dead yet? Had to blow
His head the fuck off
(Boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom)
I'm in the mess hall Thursday eatin'
Chicken with the drug lords
Wholesale, oh well i know they fresh off, I
Just seen the boat sail, bulgari coattail
(Ah)
My first gone three weeks with no shells
Been shootin' ever since, you know me well
You know me well (Brr, brr)
I had a brown-skin girl
Same color as my Dutch (Uh, huh)
She said, "Holie, go drag your nuts"
(Drag your nuts)
She queef melodically, in Greek mythology
Nike is the goddess of victory
And that lit to me (We lit)
The weed has a litany, the side effects
They get to me that shit ain't shit to me
(That shit ain't shit)
I get higher than a war drone in a war zone
I should win awards, bro, and go on tour, ho
(Woo)
My niggas on the west side got they guns
And Mey came through with a box of ones
That's a day trip to Vegas, we stay lit
Hit wages the day is outrageous
I'm pullin' twelve gauges
Niggas in yo' bushes
They waitin' to let the K smoke
The shooter had to sniff a fifty
Just so he could stay woke (Sniff)
You niggas ain't got no ambition
So y'all gon' stay broke
Why you think I'm in this
Trap kitchen tryna weigh coke? (Whip it up)
Shit, it's either that or I slip
The teller a bank note
My dog just came home, he on parole
So he can't smoke like Bishop in Juice
Three fifty-seven by the ankle
Nigga get outta pocket
I'm sendin' God back a angel
(Boom, boom, boom, boom)
I used to get the boy from the Spanish nigga
Pedro (Hah)
I'm self made
I ain't need to sign to a record label
(Ha ha haha)
Yeah, out on Rodeo pushin' Scaglietti
Geiger double-O twos
Wear your gloves when you baggin' fetti
(Hah)
Who's the better rapper? I haven't met him
Have my little savage wet him (Brr)
I hope your mama got a casket ready
(Boom, boom, boom)