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conway the machine - brucifix كلمات الأغنية

[intro: conway the machine]
brr

[verse 1: conway the machine]
cocaine caviar, in group with fishes (sniff)
you see a bunch of rappers, i see a group of b_tches (haha)
no broke n_ggas around me
that sh_t might rub off, i’m superstitious (get out of here)
direct deposit just came in, that sh_t was too ridiculous
my music motivate dudes in the trenches, usin’ switches (uh_huh)
ain’t even gotta drop a bag, them boys gon’ do your dishes (boom, boom, boom)
bro got all that time, he appealed and they reduced the sentence
and he still gotta do two digits (that’s f_cked up), sh_t
word to my n_gga malice, everythin’ i spew malicious
that’s just somethin’ to think about when y’all do y’all lists (talk that sh_t)
run at me, you runnin’ towards a wall, boy, i ain’t movin’ inches (uh_huh)
dj modified the yacht, he like “buzz, check my new invention” (what up, buzz?)
hahaha, yeah, n_ggas can’t control their emotions, show their true intentions
that b_tch was broke, that made me lose my interest
i’m so in the lead, i could leave for three years and still ain’t losin’ distance (ha)
look, it was resi’ in them pots and them pans, now it’s tropical sand (whip up)
i told her “don’t even pack, we gon’ shop when we land” (we shoppin’)
private villa, seafood tower, lobster and clam (get money, b_tch)
so paranoid, some nights, i sleep with this glock in my hand (uh_huh)
havin’ visions of n_ggas that i done shot with this can (i swear)
it’s n_ggas that i love, i know, tryna plot on my land (who plottin’, huh?)
whack ’em, bury ’em in my yard, dig his plot on my land (woo)
sh_t, i’m just that n_gga, boy, look at my run
look all of the classics that i dropped in the span of six years
it would seem i did the impossible, d_mn
came a long way from when a n_gga was shot in my van
tourin’ overseas, i just had a moshpit in france
puttin’ on for my n_ggas that’s locked in the jam (ah)
i don’t rock with industry n_ggas, they is not my mans (uh_huh)
[interlude: westside gunn]
uh_uh (brr)
flygod
ayo

[verse 2: westside gunn]
i don’t trust no_f_ckin’_body but this heckler (boom, boom, boom)
just spent thirty_thousand in the webster (ah)
you know the god, nothin’ more, nothin’ lesser (uh_uh)
jamaican, raw, hit him in his head and said “bless up” (boom, boom, boom, boom, boom)
ayo, jamaican, raw, hit him in his head and said “bless up” (boom, boom, boom, boom, boom)
ayo, tell ’em to bring the match, to wear patek green sandals (grr)
better be at you, tom ford tracksuit
prince markie d on the stove, wearin’ raccoons
you just got it, i wore this sh_t fashion week last june (ah)
balenciaga, adida, baklava (doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot)
the shopper tried to sway maserati, with the prada top (skrrt)
american cups, patent lavish on [?] blocks (hmm)
then them tears sing michael top off, mardi gras (brr, brr, brr, brr)
i talked to sly and cutter today (ah)
still be in the hood, got a house on the lake
got album of the year, still get work from the bae (ah)
oldest seven told me “if you gon’ play, you gotta play”
my n_gga just seen a boy, stomach hurt and he got a stain (hmm)
gave y.n. a new griselda chain and a drac’ (brr)

- conway the machine

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