[Conway the Machine & Westside Gunn] Detectives combin´ through the hood lookin´ for a corpse Draco hittin´, I don´t think your body can endure the force (Doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot) I whip the fish up with a fuckin´ hanger or a fork (Whip up) Told that bitch go ahead, sniff what you want, it´s plenty more to snort (Sniff) I had an outstandin´ warrant for a short Turned myself in rockin´ Louis and all my jewelry, I wore to court (Hahahaha) Huh, cop pulled me over in my imported Porsche He said, "This car must be a hundred K", I said, "You forty short" (I said you short) My nigga droppin´ bodies for the sport
Violators got tragedy written all over it like the war report (Ha) Most of you rap niggas, I pistol whip you or extort I´m the Machine, I fuck bitches you can´t afford to court Y´all clout chasin´, every verse, you name droppin´ Taggin´ niggas in your post, hopin´ that they comment back and at you in it I don´t wanna rap, don´t wanna dap you niggas I honestly don´t give no fucks about bein´ friends with a rapper nigga (Not at all) Griselda, bitch, we the inspiration (Huh) You can see me and Gunn influencin´ all the music these niggas makin´ Ask B Dot and Elliot, they will tell you yes (Go and ask ´em, nigga)
Ask my nigga Mal and Joe Budden, they can tell you best (Uh-huh) Ask the homie Wayno and ´em, they´ll confess Lotta albums are suddenly startin´ to feel a lil´ more Griselda-esque (Ha) Talk to Ebro, ask Sway in the Morning About the impact of this movement, sure, they´ll say it´s enormous ´Member I used to sell the yay with the AK on the corner (Huh) Now reality TV bitches keep sayin´ I´m gorgeous (What up, baby?) I got the flooded AP, my jeweler sayin´ it´s flawless That´s probably cap, but what he askin´, I´ma pay it regardless (Hahahaha) Every other day it´s menages, racin´ garages Made that bitch suck this dick until she say she exhausted (I ain´t say you finished)
Keep a shooter with me that don´t mind takin´ the charge Basically, May Street made me this heartless (Boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom) Machine, bitch (Ayo)
[Westside Gunn & BENNY THE BUTCHER] Don´t ever try to play me (Don´t ever try to play me, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom) You know what time it is, baguette AP (Ah) I go to sleep with the MAC (Brr), wake up, brush my teeth with the MAC (Brr, brr, brr, brr), ayo Ferragamo goggles, in the day room eatin´ nachos First nigga touch the TV gettin´ stabbed, word to Michael, pick one (Ah) Tyson, Jordan, Jackson, MAC-10 (Brr, brr, brr) Droppin´ niggas broad daylight (Brr, droppin´ niggas broad daylight)
Ayo, you know I´m the goat (Ah) Hit at least five niggas, wash the MAC with the soap (Brr, brr) I ain´t never goin´ back, free Cease, free Soaks (Free my niggas) Anybody you see out there, just shoot, let ´em know (Doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot) My side bitch bought me a TEC-9 with a bolt (Ah) Tucked it in the Chrome Heart in case a nigga want war (In case a nigga want war) I took the tablets down to ´Bama, had the best for the low (Yeah, ah) Pyer Moss snow boots on with no snow (Yeah, uh) Four-four long, we on, he gotta go, he gotta go (Yeah, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, yo)
[BENNY THE BUTCHER]
For pots with powder ´round the edges, this the grind that I perfected (Uh-huh) I had to dodge a lot of questions from crooked homicide detectives In a raid, white boys with vestes piled ´round the exits (Remember that) Sawed-off shotgun, double barrel, I filed it down symmetric, yeah (Nigga, ah) I snap a finger, Scram´ll clap the nina (Clap the nina) You lost your bitch, I haven´t seen her, the cash I bring in attractin´ singers (Hahahaha) A bag of heaters in the back of Bimmers (Skrrt) Cocaine, thick gold chain like DMC in them black Adidas I remember when it was dirt cheap (Uh-huh) I don´t know what you gon´ name this, but it´s soundin´ like "Spurs 3" (Sound like "Spurs 3")
I earned keep, now everybody tryna get a verse free (Damn) Jewels like we do Travis Scott numbers the first week, keep up I don´t mention y´all niggas´ names, pillow talkin´, playin´ little games (I don´t do that) This a man´s world, you at your best when you middle aged (A man´s world) Streets waitin´, if I don´t drop, all the hustlers gon´ get enraged (They waitin´) Room full of bitches, first we gon´ fuck ´em, then get on stage (Ah) Who knew? I up and married the game, no, ain´t get engaged (Uh-uh) On the prison yard next to a jack like a ten of spades (Nigga) Griselda, we applyin´ the pressure into the game (Uh-huh)
These rap niggas talk greasy on tracks and then explain, pussy