Lyrics Conway The Machine – Hall & Nash
Text:
Aye yo, I had to Vert the Vanquish
Basquiats in the bandos, we tasteless
S.E. Gang, hammer on the way shit
Leavin’ the club wasted, waivin’ it in niggas faces
Louis reekin’ out my fuckin’ pores
Sweepin’ coke off of marble floors
Madusa head on the buckle, shit
I came with the semi-LV’s on the luggages
Blood bottoms with the spikes on it
Canary Chopard, pink ice on it
Fresh new MAC on the dresser chillin’
Watchin’ Run’s House, daydreamin’ ’bout Vanessa Simmons
Playin’ chess on the luggage
Zanotti’s unzipped match the Lagerfeld bucket
Smell the dope on me at the little homie graduation
He caught his first body, told him, «congratulations»
Rockin’ minks at the Broner fight
If the four pound dope than the chopper might
How the fuck you ‘gon do me harm, nigga?
I’m surrounded by shooters, I’m Lebron nigga
Shootin’ like Curry nigga
Do you like Flip when Birdie ripped him
Two.45’s on me like Jimmy Jump
MAC in the Reagan era, bag in the baby’s trunk
Python on the Just Don’s
Fendi dinner plates with the Gold Bond
Twistin’ up the gas in a Versace store
Spent so much cash they gotta lock the door
The SLS coke white
Free Sly Green, they gave my nigga four lifes
This the kind of shit the game miss, hurricane wrist
In the kitchen whippin’ up a cocaine dish
Stop the bank at the dice game
Catch him in the yard with the knife gang
Niggas ain’t fuckin’ with my night game
Forty for the Hublot, that was light change
Couple MACs in my bitch Birkin
Throw him off the roof now he fly for certain
And bitch I want all the cash
Conway, Westside Gunn, Hall and Nash, nigga
Griselda, by Fashion Rebels
