Soulja Boy (feat. Conway the Machine)

Would you read us a bedtime story? Passed me the pistol Bam, I look through the door I see like three, four niggas Conductor, Conductor, Conductor Yeah-yeah Yeah, check, ayo Being fucked up for years, locked in the box is not the goal I figured out the flip, I turned a pot of piss to pots of gold (I did) Life a gamble like a dice roll at the Bellagio I got the glow, big bottom hoes wanna top me slow And buy me shit like I'm Kenny Redd, my life phenomenal Still the same screw-faced youth that pull a nine on you My namе ring from east to west like a linе of longitude The dope dirty, cut with Fent', he died off of a line of food Garbage dudes couldn't shine my shoes, always knew It'd speak volumes when you come up crazy off making silent moves Jail was hell, somehow I found heaven in the solitude Kept a scalpel, number eleven, front, then I'm oxin' you Living rapid, mommy told me slow down like chopped and screwed On the road to riches, keep a four pound for obstacles In the inner pocket of my mobster suit Where I'm from a bum'll kill you over a crumb and not lots of loot The homie told me stay off 50 like it's '04 Even the smartest niggas tryna know more, wisen up Nigga died with his eyes open, he wasn't live enough My bitch bad as fuck, body smokin', still'll line you up Like the ruler, mind on money making maneuvers Never make the news again, my legal shooter'll do ya The Ruger spit fire like King Koopa, you niggas losers Bow and kiss the ring, I got this rap thing in a stupor (Yo) Billy in the back seat hype, I let him hold the toy He hopped out wildin', shooting crazy like Soulja Boy Got him in the frame, snapped his shots, not a Polaroid Thousand words I'd never said to the pigs, keep it closed for sure Billy in the back seat hype, I let him hold the toy He hopped out wildin', shooting crazy like Soulja Boy Got him in the frame, snapped his shots, not a Polaroid Thousand words I'd never said to the pigs, keep it closed for sure Yeah Them niggas pussy, they some hoes for sure This grown man business, little nigga close the door (Fuck off) Os to snort leave noses sore No Fenty in them bricks, the whole load was pure Yeah, seven figures what I grossed from tours Buffalo nigga got it feeling like the old New York Sent lawyer money to the bro, he gotta go to court They tryna give him seven, he got knocked with a pole before I can look at you and tell you never sold a brick in your life And we know you soft, you ain't living the shit that you write You so timid, it's like, who even considered you nice? Stop that nigga, twenty bands and I do tricks on the dice Uh, Clase Azul, I mix with the Sprite Head from two bitches, same time, that's the shit that I like (Woo) Uh, my future just like my vision, it's bright I know it gotta suck, you niggas live a miserable life (Ha) I ain't friendly with these rap niggas, I ain't Mr. Polite I ain't gon' give you advice I'ma watch your soul leave your body when I dig in my knife FN kiss 'em goodnight, nigga that's light (Machine) Someone comes up and says something like, "I am a God" Everybody says, "Who does he think he is?" I just told you who I thought I was, a God