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Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Conway the Machine
Conway the Machine
Performer
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Daringer
Daringer
Producer

Lyrics

(Griselda) Yeah, nigga (By Fashion Rebels) We take the blicks when we go to Quad, nigga You seen what happened to Pac, right? We ain't fuckin' with these niggas, nigga Yeah Two bodies on the broken 40 (uh-huh), tuh Your favorite rappers is broke and 40 (hah) Ain't gotta lift a fuckin' finger, Tony smoke 'em for me (Tony-Tone) Not only got the illest bars, we got the dopest stories (we got the stories, yeah, look) I went from playin' with ninas and click-clackin' them llamas (llamas) To walkin' out of Neiman's, mix-matchin' designer (uh) I whip crack, I brought a brick back to my mama's (yeah) On a crash course, I wore a chin strap in the Honda (skrrt) Push your shit back, got a big MAC, I'ma be honest (brrr) I go hard in the paint, big facts, I'ma be honest (be honest) Let my chips stack, gettin' big racks, I'm seein' commas We on islands, I bring a bitch back, might be Rihanna (Ah, hahahaha) I'm really with that, my clique packed full of piranhas (yeah) My shit clap, you'll get flipped back into the August (doot, doot, doot, doot) Left with money and dope like this pack was consignment I tripled up my flip from pimp-slappin' the product (look) Used to flush the toilet with water in the bucket Now my neck lookin' like some frozen water in the bucket (you see me, bitch) Bitch on a plane with a 40 pound order in her luggage Machine, the illest to ever record it, motherfucker (Machine, bitch) Don't get extorted, motherfucker Diamonds flawless, motherfucker (The Butcher comin') Diamond chains attract bitches, that's why I bought this motherfucker Continental Spur, I can barely park the motherfucker (hahaha) Got an app on my phone, that's how I start the motherfucker (uh) Gun on my hip, got aim like an archer, motherfucker (brrr) I be swingin' through New York like Peter Parker, motherfucker (yeah, nigga) A lot of niggas rap, but they don't come as thorough (uh-huh) We the hardest niggas out, and we ain't from a borough (yo, East Side) I'm from the town where they carry .30s and marry birdies And all the young niggas gettin' buried early I went to war, held that cannon firmly I got that tight wrist and a white bitch you only compare to Fergie She half Dominican, her hair was curly (hah) And she very curvy, my number retired, you can't wear my jersey (hahahaha) And that blicky that I carry dirty Free Ab, free Mula, my Philly niggas is very sturdy (free the ahks) And the bitches see me dressin' flyer I got a check, so I can get what I desire, I be the pressure applier (ha) Border patrol, checkin' all the tires, sold bricks and bust your gun (ha) Then I was definitely inspired, look Most of my niggas gettin' rich (gettin' rich) The rest of my niggas, they'll smoke you (brrr) My lil' homie put me on the lick (on the lick) Got a flip phone, then I made dope moves (ha, what you need?) One time for my niggas totin' sticks (totin' sticks, ah) You won't know it's lit 'til we approach you (what's poppin'? Uh) Circle 'round your block to do a hit (do a hit) Four hammers deep, ridin' in the old school (let's go) Brrr Doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot Doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot Doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot It's the fuckin' king of New York, nigga (Fuckin' king of New York, nigga) I don't even gotta rap (ah) Fuck y'all niggas I'm gettin' too much money, I'm Hollywood now, nigga (Give a fuck about none of y'all niggas) La-la-la-la-la-la Flygod, nigga I don't even know what the fuck water taste like anymore, it's all champagne (ah) Shout-out to Sarah (ah), la Y'all niggas pussy You ever ate Ruth's Chris and House in the same day, nigga? La-la-la-la-la-la I got the Lamborghini two-door and four-door, nigga (skrrt, la) Praise both Boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom And I'm tellin' y'all niggas this for the next two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight Nigga, 13 years, nigga (ah) 2050, nigga, y'all niggas still can't fuck with me (Can't fuck with me, nigga) This shit forever, nigga Rest in peace Machine Gun Black (The Almighty) (SE Gang) Ayy, look, most of my niggas gettin' rich (gettin' rich) The rest of my niggas, they'll smoke you (brrr) My lil' homie put me on the lick (on the lick) Got a flip phone, then I made dope moves (ha, what you need?) One time for my niggas totin' sticks (totin' sticks, ah) You won't know it's lit 'til we approach you (what's poppin'? Uh) Circle 'round your block to do a hit (do a hit) Four hammers deep, ridin' in the old school (let's go, la-la-la-la-la-la, la)
Writer(s): Alvin Lamar Worthy, Demond Price, Jeremie Pennick, Thomas A Paladino Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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