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lirik lagu vertino – conway the machine feat. joey bada$

uh, life is good, man
life is good
yeah

told you
i told you
i told you, n*ggas

can′t f*ck with me, n*gga
for real (brr)
yeah (brr)
know what the f*ck is up, n*gga (love)

seen the fiend, find a vein and an angle to shoot it (ha*ha*ha)
shot that p*ssy n*gga in his knee like we draining some fluid (b*b*b*b*boom)
rob a rapper at his own show
took his chain and i threw it up, stupid (aah, gimme that sh*t, p*ssy)

the renegade, you been afraid
shot penetrated my shoulder
still didn’t knock the chip away
my heart only got colder, yeah
cold as minnesota in october

yola in the pot swole up
stop, hold up (talk to ′em)
they starting to hollow what i sing
they following my thing
they gotta acknowledge me as king, n*gga (uh*uh)

nah, this is god level, feral yellow
biting every switch, burn ’em with the stick like marshmallow (boom*boom*boom*boom)
you 30*something and broke, still driving a b*tch car
talking ’bout you out getting l!cks off (ha*ha*ha)
i was so comfy in the hood
i can trap with my kicks off (ah)

now i′m in that ′bach, brown interior, call it biscoff (woo)
b*tch, i’m the big dawg
draw the plays like i′m coach kerr
holding the clipboard, i take time out (‘kay)
i got warriors on my bench, chris paul (ah*ah)
whenever i′m triggered, my trigger finger itch more (uh*uh)

reach in my pocket, i can pull hundreds out by the fistful (‘kay)
look, ain′t n0body put me on, i think y’all took it wrong
y’all better go back, do your google research and look some more
watch them youtube vids about the man with them bullet scars
west and butch would tell you, it was crooked jaw, that took us off
verses was eye*popping, we skyrocketed (′kay)
my mind shine like diamonds in one of westside′s watches (ha*ha*ha)

went from buying 62 grams to going pride shopping
my shooter on tour with me, he just was on crime stoppers (facts, n*gga)
sh*t, they still looking for him
n*gga had a brick, gave me two thousand to cook it for him
chine get a gold, n*gga hit your top with a bullet for him (ah)

i get big money, i will when i’m putting letters together
i wheel off fortune, i show n*ggas love
somehow, i′m still the villain for it
she tryna f*ck a rapper so she can feel important
that’s why she tryna be all in my section with liquor pouring

six in the morning, police at my door
guns by the bed, money in the floor
neighbors looking at me like we sell that raw
fiends know it′s pure, so they keep coming for more

and the blood keep calling, time to up that score
one hand scratch the other one, that’s just law
your b*tch looking at me like, “he got that raw”
fiends know it′s pure, so they keep coming for more

my style is minimalistic, plain jane simplistic
i’m like ace and money mitch but really on some pimp sh*t
falling off ain’t too realistic, n*ggas telling tales
could sell you news stories but this crack still sells
rule number one, never ghost the clientele (never)
fiends lining at my door, they need that sh*t now (now)
ten crack commandments, yo, i knows it too well
this the same dope i′m dishing out, just on a different scale (yeah)

let me break it down if you don′t see the vicious steel (listen)
you see, i got them hooked on the real (real)
i bossed up in and went to columbia for the deal
like f*ck the “pop a pill” sh*t, this that pure raw they wanna feel
scarcity in the market, now i’m spending the margin
and it′s only a problem if the product ain’t what it′s promised
’cause any competition get demolished
these n*ggas know my sh*t hit the hardest, to be honest

graduated from the school of hard rock with my honors
started on the block and made it to the top from the bottom
used to cook it at my grandmama spot, we was starving
right or wrong, the truth be timeless
block away from marcy projects, we was prospects
gaining knowledge on the different ways to fill our pockets (yeah)
tryna make a profit in order to afford every object we desired
like, one day i′ll retire
but for now, i’ll be the main supplier of that f*cking fire

six in the morning, police at my door
guns by the bed, money in the floor
neighbors looking at me like we sell that raw
fiends know it’s pure, so they keep coming for more

and the blood keep calling, time to up that score
one hand scratch the other one, that′s just law
your b*tch looking at me like, “he got that raw”
fiends know it′s pure, so they keep coming for more

- conway the machine feat joey bada

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