Music Video

Featured In

Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Conway the Machine
Conway the Machine
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Demond Price
Demond Price
Songwriter
Christopher Tyson
Christopher Tyson
Songwriter
Lloyd Brown II
Lloyd Brown II
Arranger
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Khrysis
Khrysis
Producer
Demond Price
Demond Price
Executive Producer
rocky tran
rocky tran
Recording Engineer
Sonny "Carson" Tudeme
Sonny "Carson" Tudeme
Mixing Engineer
Mark Christensen
Mark Christensen
Mastering Engineer
Jannique Heard
Jannique Heard
Creative Director

Lyrics

Uh, look The dope I ordered come over border, I'm the G.O.A.T. recorder Word to cash, my soul on frozen water, flow and slaughter Clip in the pole, tall as your oldest daughter Bullets in that bitch is 'bout as big as a rollerquarter's (boom, boom, boom) I don't play about my cash, I'm on your ass, if you owe a quarter (huh?) We got a problem, you got smoke and order ('kay) Ever since my first shit dropped, man, I've been goin' to A new height, you right, new ice, when I perform in Florida Ayo, put some respect on my name (huh?) Or the coroner be scrapin' up what's left of your brain (hahaha) And coughin', smokin' on this pressure, I'm just testin' my strain (uh-huh) It's definitely pain in the back of my neck with the chains, look (this shit heavy though) Bitches be sayin', "Oh, you definitely changed Callin' me bitch in every message, you don't text me the same, nigga" (hahaha) Machine, bitch, I'm a threat in the game Tape that I did with Alchemist, I was just testin' my aim, nigga (I'm on y'all ass) Them Big Ghost shits was warning shots And I had a lot more to drop, I was just waitin' for the tour to stop Started with a 8-Ball, pushed it up to a quarter block Water-whipped the ounces, it's residue in that coffee pot (ha) We live in the times, illegitimate crimes, militant minds Still in my prime when pennin' these lines Listen, it's finna get spooky, bone-chillin', you feelin' your spine Danger is imminent, this is the time of the Machine, bitch (brr) The watches don't tick-tock (woo) We got it in with the pots, playin' razors in the ziplocks (with what?) Fuck around and get your shit popped (boom, boom, boom, boom, boom) You know how the boys rock, catch you comin' out your bitch spot (brr...) Catch you comin' out your bitch spot ('kay) You know how the boys rock, catch you comin' out your bitch spot (Boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom) That guy right there, Conway He's, uh, he's got somethin' And I'm like "Yo, that guy right there, Conway" He's, uh, he got somethin'" It's like a Picasso, Dali type fluidity With the coke rap ethos, you know what I'm sayin'? It's almost anachronistic, 'cause it's like almost out of time, but it's so present And it's someting, you know, and it's like, I guess what makes it feel Like this coke rap from a different dimension It's because it's New York, but it's Buffalo He talks the talk And then everything extra that's-that's added onto him Like, the fact that he was shot And it makes him rhyme a certain way It makes it, the way he slur Like, everythin' about his delivery Made me keep wanting to pay attention to him
Writer(s): Christopher Tyson, Demond Price Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
instagramSharePathic_arrow_out