lirik lagu conway the machine – land o’ lakes
[intro: conway]
yeah…
yeah, hahaha
this sh-t is effortless, n-gga
let me see what i got
[verse 1: conway]
look, the shooter snort a gram of flake, sh-t was land o’lake
bandana on face, blammin’ at ya nanna place (boom boom boom!)
hold the k with the banana straight
and if your life don’t end, at least a limb they’ll have to amputate
uh, kick ya down door, and demand ya cake
bell’s palsy, but b-tches still love my handsome face
conway, this sh-t is like deontay wilder versus a bantamweight
i’ll beat you ’til one of my hands’ll break
bricks from the cartel, stamped with the naked lady
drum on the f&h’ll wake ya baby
you hear the cl-ssic sh-t i’m makin’ lately
ain’t it crazy, the kid with the twisted face the new face of shady
white bentley trucks, guts was blue suede
sh-t was all bulletproof like luke cage
b-tches tell me i’m the new wave
on westmont nickels i’m eatin’ new wave
my joy roll n-ggas ride with two k’s
get rid of a few bodies, dug a few graves
i hit the club and pop a few spades
i’m gettin’ p-ssy like uncle luke in his 2 live crew days
she can’t suck this d-ck again if she ain’t swallow
uh, kilo chain, cartier goggles
uh, how you talkin’ money when ya chain’s hollow?
i blow ya heart out of your body, then your brain follow
west my brother, gotta get through me to get to him
gotta get through me before you get to em
ain’t drop an album yet, already ’bout to hit a m
it’s gettin’ spooky for these rappers, sh-t is gettin’ grim
i’m from a hood where bodyin’ sh-t is a must
now i’m up, bad b-tches like rihanna what i l-st
uh, you better off payin’ homage, you know what’s up
i’m takin’ the league by a storm like giannis for the bucks, ah
[verse 2: busta rhymes]
yo, prepare for the m-ssacre (k!ll!)
driver and (k!ll!) p-ssenger
no prisoners this year, somebody call the medical examiner
complicate your cardiovascular, it’s the amb-ssador
i’m sledgehammerin’ n-ggas ‘fore i throw ’em over the banister
and stuffin’ every body part up inside of a small canister
instead of jeru, they call me (i hate you!) the damaja
and while we here, look lil homie, handle ya business bruh
(i’m not ya f-ckin’ friend!) we can be cool after i’m finish, bruh
completely different sides of the spectrum, see what the distance does
separate the dealers from the fiends, go ‘head and sniff the drugs
two types of different human beings bleedin’ different bloods
ignite the sickest bud
leavin’ ’em layin’ right where the witness was
way the gods’ll f-ck sh-t up, n-ggas callin’ me religious thug (ha!)
how i broke sh-t up, n-ggas’ll spaz the way the b-tches bug
and the whip (?), (?) and they compliments it
then they compliments me because i let ’em live to doc-ment it!
uh huh, yeah (the topic is too toxic)
i’m lock’in it down with the boom bap, it’s so hard for me to stop it
(ha!) n-gga, change b-tch (ha!), i change (ha!) the game quick (ha! ha!)
y’all say the same sh-t (ha!)
y’all look like the same fl!ck, same pr-ck
how you gettin’ bread when ya pitchin’ on the same strip? strange clique (ha!)
no need to frown y’all go down on the same chick (ha!), brain sick
it keeps callin’ my name that type hunger i undergo
bus-a-bus up in this b-tch, got beat soundin’ like herd of buffalo
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