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lirik lagu griselda - moselle

[intro: conway the machine]
a landslide, n-gga
huh, this sh-t is, this sh-t is a landslide, n-gga

[verse 1: conway the machine]
uh, this the theme music for the pie stretchers (whip up)
i whipped five, i got five extras (hah)
three everybody is f.o.o.d tapes, a trifecta (cap)
show these n-ggas in the game how to apply pressure (rock sh-t up, n-gga)
all my b-tches got a bag and they drive tesla (uh-huh)
bust down the cubans, i lit my neck up (you see the neck, b-tch)
landslidin’ on n-ggas, don’t even try to catch us
hollow tips flyin’ out of my heckler (brr)
we came a long way from that digiscale
that sh-t too small to weigh up the sh-t i sell (hahaha)
pink spade for my b-tch, she don’t do zinfandel
y’all ain’t the only n-ggas gettin’ money, boy, we rich as well (hah)
rich as h-ll, shooter empty out his clip and bail (boom, boom, boom, boom)
sniffin’ yayo so long, he lost his sense of smell (smell sh-t)
before i left cali, i sent the bale (haha)
hit goose, told him, “look out for it, it’s in the mail”
i leave a n-gga living room floor full of bl!cky sh-lls (brr)
broke, we gotta k!ll his baby mama too, that b-tch’ll tell (get that b-tch too)
i’m stackin’ all the profit off of every brick i sell (cap)
i bet you p-ssy n-ggas wish i fail (hahaha)

[verse 2: benny the butcher]
ah, hand on my clip, we animals, dismantle my strip
i’m 5’8″ but 6’11” if i stand on my bricks
i cancel y’all quick with the glock i shoot cannonb-lls with (doot, doot, doot)
i sat in prison, walkin’ the yard, just plannin’ all this (ah)
uh, unknown location, i got thirty os (i got thirty os)
’cause i’m too smart for that stash in the dirty clothes
i’m in the kitchen countin’ cash, does she disturb me? no
revenge a dish for greedy n-ggas, you gotta serve it cold (suckers)
i had to move where the climate hot (hot)
i took the money off the corner and invested that in private stock
bet you know i still run the kinda spot (yeah)
hustlers buy the bricks in the back and the front is just a tire shop (ah)
big guns, ain’t no quiet shots (ain’t no quiet shots)
i’ll be fine if you die or not, plus i’m equipped if a riot pop (we got guns, n-gga)
i threw the whole clip but he survived the shots (brr)
i guess my aim was on but the timing not (d-mn)
felony sh-t, you can never be clipped (n-gga)
one night stands with women i would never be with
my og puttin’ me on, he love tellin’ me sh-t
said, “black men in america could never be rich”, the butcher

[verse 3: westside gunn]
flygod
ayo, rockin’ wonders (ah)
wonderin’ if i should rock john undercover for the whole summer
pole with the scratched numbers (boom, boom, boom, boom, boom)
we wore fear of gods to the last supper (ah)
too much c0ke, i made the pyrex gl-ss suffer
house of the very islands, stylin’
dope pilin’ on china, put the .40 to him, started firin’ (boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom)
plain jane, said i’m ahead of my time again (ahead of my time again)
back whippin’ them nines again, back to back lambs on fairfax (skrrt)
ran out of sweet chick, blew the n-gga head back (boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom)
jetta to the beverly center
bloodstains in the fifth seat, gave the bl!ck to valet
now you rich, m16 vicious, don’t come my way, i spray (doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot)
i’m out in tribeca baggin’ up yay
paint all on my north face, the worst case, i’ma be rich
collina strada my b-tch (huh?), i’m on the yard on my drip (huh?)
i had the audemars wrist (huh?), the phillipe tucked in my timbs (huh?)
you better have my commissary or you gettin’ that biz (ah)
jewelry out with my kids

- lirik lagu griselda

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