Blakk Tape - CONWAY THE MACHINE

Turn that shit up some

Nah mean?

I want to feel it in my soul my nigga

Gotta give these niggas that gospel ya feel me

Machine, bitch

Griselda, nigga

You know what I hate though?

It’s always one of you bum ass niggas that be talking all wreckless like ya’ll

niggas really live that life

Like ya’ll niggas really bout that, nigga

Put one of you niggas on a t-shirt nigga

For real nigga

I’m from the hood nigga

All I see is bodies

Everybody that got a body where I’m from

Get a strap from somebody, there’s probably a body on the gun

My little shooters will body anybody under the sun

One nigga mention my name

Everybody getting the drum

For fun

Look

I don’t let a fuck nigga by me

Cause they just wanna be under a King, like Kyrie

Niggas took the Love out the game like Olynyk

So use your head, nigga, before you get a hole in it (For Real)

50 shot fold ups, I unload the shit

Had niggas running and ducking and jumping over shit

I pull up on you, it’s over with

In one year, I watched my brother take over shit

G-Star Raw, Balmain moto shit

Hibachi filet and shrimp, my Kyoto dish

Your Cuban hollow, your Rollie tick

I’m doing drive-bys dolo, I’m a soloist!

Even if it’s broad day outside, I’m still letting off the K outside

Nigga I’m shooting like Klay outside

Cause everyday a nigga’s gun spray outside

And I ain’t trying to lay outside

I’m from the hood where the G’s sell yay-outside

It could be 4 in the morning, nigga they outside

Kick his door down, rob the nigga barefaced

Blow his fitted on the back hall staircase

Now his baby mama got the scared face

She gonna take me to their safe

You ain’t a fly nigga, everything you wear fake

Rocking Fashion Rebels letterman, the sleeves are rare snake

My dawg got a rackateer case

Taking it to trial, I hope he get a fair shake

And you rap niggas disgust me

One of the illest out, you’ve gotta discuss me

Good kid, but I let the streets corrupt me

Fuck around, your life gonna come to an end abruptly

I’m that nigga I must be

Fuck a bitch once, and now she trying to cuff me

You ain’t a shooter, you’re gun dusty

Black tape on the handle, the.38 rusty (Pow pow pow)

Fuck these niggas talking about?

Ayo Daringer man, I got these niggas, man

Conway the Machine, S-E Gang nigga, Griselda Bitch

You know how I do, you know how I play, Westside what’s popping nigga

Yeah, yeah