Conway The Machine, Lloyd Banks, Flee Lord, Havoc - Juvenile Hell lyrics

Griselda (Look)

Was a shooter before I rapped
And I'm still in action
Thirty-two bullets fill the MAC clips
My niggas active (Brr)
Hollow tips in the strap
 I'ma fill his hat with
We clap shit that hit his
Cap and peel it backwards (Cap)
Break the gas down to fill the Backwoods
I just opened this pack
It was vacuum sealed and still in plastic
(Smokin')
I lost hope, you told me you wanted all smoke
Nah, bro
You just a lil' nigga and your bars broke
(You broke, nigga)
On Burgard, right off Doat, I sold raw coke
I cried when Country Mike died
My heart broke (My nigga)
On the yard, get your jaw poked
As far as the bars wrote
Not only did I raise the bar, the bar broke
(Talk to 'em)
We shoot sticks with see-through clips
You better pray that bitch jam
Up when we doin' this (Ha)
I breeze through Phipps, I need new drip
(Huh) , the grip on me
Think I'm lackin' this time?
I'ma leave you clipped machine, you bitch

Yeah, that leave you split
Wanna put money on it? Nigga, c note this
All you niggas know what time it is, I'm G
No Clipse
Reload, bitch, your brains all over the whip
The clock tickin', tick tick, nigga
Leave you split
Wanna put money on it? Nigga, c note this
All you niggas know what time it is, I'm G
No Clipse
Reload, bitch, your brains all over the whip
The clock tickin', tick tick (Lord, Lord)

You rolled the town, but, nigga
I rolled a six
Cee-lo trips, that forty got a mean old kick
(Brr)
Point it at him broad day, then he gon' dip
(He gon' dip)
You violate the code, brodie, we on shit
(Huh) chine and the legend
(What) , big clean Smith & Wesson (Yes)
716 and big Queens spittin' weapons
(Boom, boom) out in east side Buff'
You get your feet tied up (Got him)
Meanwhile, in the boroughs
Niggas' streets got touched (Uh, huh)
Police got snuffed after he got bust
I turn a body to a bag soon as beef pop up
(Brr) send a hit through a text while
You sittin' on your steps (Brr)
That youngin come in runnin' with
The grip in his sweats
Black KITH Corona mask
MACs sittin' on the grass (Grass)
Now I'm on tours
No more crack pitchin' on the ave (No)
Sickest in the city (yeah)
Got the quickest hitters with me (Got him)
My Cali homie lurkin' with the
Blicky in his Dickies, motherfucker

Yeah, that leave you split
Wanna put money on it? Nigga, c note this
All you niggas know what time it is, I'm G
No Clipse
Reload, bitch, your brains all over the whip
The clock tickin', tick tick, nigga
Leave you split
Wanna put money on it? Nigga, c note this
All you niggas know what time it is, I'm G
No Clipse
Reload, bitch, your brains all over the whip
The clock tickin', tick tick (Uh)

Forty-two in pre-rolled hit's
I'm ridin' dirty
Policin' without the sheeps don't mix
Des' Eagle grips, don't ego trip
I match designer black attire, rapid fire
Rest in peace whole cliques
The never scary, more to bury
We bury shit all the time
Need a specialist to examine what's
Goin' on in my mind
Lately, your favorite rappers have all
Been on a decline
I fell back and got better both times
These PCP and coke lines i'm on my rivals
Embarrass 'em with my calm bravado
My alma mater of smackin' a nigga horizontal
The sole survivor, you stuntin'
Money be gone tomorrow pour out a bottle
Tire marks spark the Verrazzano
As far as rhymin', I'm a god
Don't pursue the incomparable
Feels like I'm up against the odds
Watch me do the impossible
Infatuated with them likes
Get you views in the hospital
Soon as you slip up, nigga
Bet a blood pool'll be washin' you

Yeah, that leave you split
Wanna put money on it? Nigga, c note this
All you niggas know what time it is, I'm G
No Clipse
Reload, bitch, your brains all over the whip
The clock tickin', tick tick, nigga
Leave you split
Wanna put money on it? Nigga, c note this
All you niggas know what time it is, I'm G
No Clipse
Reload, bitch, your brains all over the whip
The clock tickin', tick tick

Griselda