lirik lagu stovetops – conway the machine
[intro]
now this is a town very thirsty for cocaine, here comes griselda
[verse 1: conway the machine]
yeah
look i got it off the curb, where the hard serve
n*ggas’ll kick your granny door in for a raw bird
few shots make the car swerve, backseat shooter loading up the mossberg, playing mossberg, he sixteen he know how to work with it, catch him on his block, circle it
roll down that back window make sure you murder sh*t
(don’t miss n*gga)
this is for them n*ggas that don’t show up to they court date
sniff raw flake, and tuck the .40 in the northface
that put a bullet in your face, your arms all base stacking up forbes cake, the panamera porsche race up thirty three
made the law chase, leave “v” live i’m pulling off weight
couple shots hit and twisted up the guard face
i’m still alive, by the lords grace, i’m what you call great
little n*gga stay in your place, i ain’t a industry n*gga
i gun b*tt you till your jaw break, sixteen in the clip then one in the head i had a few enemies and everyone of them bled
n*gga tried to run, mac hit his stomach and legs, my jit stood over him, dropped another one in his head, f*ck these rap n*ggas machine about to come for they head
might clap one of these n*ggas in they colorful dreads, i swear
i ain’t impressed with nothing you said
gun on the feds, dump the fifty shot drum and i fled
[verse 2: mach*hommy]
ay, yo
before the glock was mad indigo, we ran up in this spot with shorty wop on [?] like where the dough, my [?] rock with my vented low, my laboratory poppin’, are we talkin’
are we shoppin’, just let us know, yo you p*ssy, you got the juice
i look like [?], i pop the bl!cky, compliment me, don’t act aloof
truth, you f*ckers is waste man, my [?]
paw prints on your baby mom, tap dance on raw bricks like i’m [?]
imagine dark skin, walk whippin’, water whippin,’ with evian
i blow a bag like michèle bennett, i’m never going back an if you
know me then you mad that i never left, yes slime don’t [?] till i signal, when i round’ know i move with a big gal, my cougar like lil’ boys, beretta ate thousand [?] eating rappers for dinner boy
[verse 3: westside gunn]
ay, yo
they say, they say, i bring that feeling back, steam from the pots made the ceiling black, whipped so much, they thought i had four arms, [?] test the truck with the doors gone
mind your fingers on the duffle, soon as i unzip you in trouble
paid the plug with all [?] six in his stomach, made his gut sick
pump the [?] with the winchester, been nice, i’ve been fresher, been next up, ricardo’s covering the sh*t, don’t think about it cuz’
if it make a dollar i want in, range rover evoque, trigger finger itchy lookin’ for the n*ggas with sky’zoo vision vivi and
westwood trenches, n*ggas make a million off of b*tches
[?] i me smiling on these b*tches, chopped the head rest to follow
that [?] ain’t a key that sh*t hollow, rocking n*ggas to sleep like see you tomorrow, stick your two fingers in every [?]
[outro]
can you, can you remember your first drug deal?
my first drug deal, like my first transaction? (mmh mmh) uuuhh, no i can’t. it was a long time ago, not on tv i’ll tell you later
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