Lyrics Conway The Machine – Rodney Little
Text:
Conway:
Yeah, you see me, nigga
See what I do, nigga?
It’s been a good year, know what I mean
It’s crazy ’cause y’all niggas talk that big money shit
Niggas hurting though
Hah
Look, they tell me I’m cocky
‘Cause I don’t think no nigga can stop me
I’m the man right now, boy, sit and just watch me
Style switch before you niggas could copy
Shooter slide through with a stick, it isn’t for hockey
On my hip where the Glock be
My city small, bitches I fuck saying rest in peace to the nigga that shot me, woah
I’m the king now, my nigga, I’m Jaffe Joffer
But I travel with a Semi like Akeem
Where I’m from they consider me top 3
Bar for bar, I don’t think no nigga could top me
The flow rare like vintage Versace
Choppa close, can’t let these niggas Biggie and Pac me, nah
I’m shooting on sight, I ain’t tryna fight
But with the hands, I’m Triple G, half Iron Mike
Gun to his head, fired twice, they say I ain’t right
But fuck how they feel about it
Cross the morgue, fuck niggas get killed about it
Youngin’ shootinf like Buddy Hield about it
That gangsta shit, boy, we still about it
My jit waving the stick, he barely missed
Every time he see a nigga been hit, he say, «swish»
This for the niggas that violate parole
And say, «Fuck willing», send me back up
I wanna pop something, every time I pick this MAC up
The hardest niggas out, niggas that’s us
Prodigy:
Niggas tried to stop me for 17 summers
But I been on these nigga’s necks for 23 summers
I’m infallible, impossible to knock me off
Top of my game, they very soft, terry cloth
Cottonball nigga, I’m a blazing fire
I cook your flesh, and come test I, try your luck
New York state niggas on these hardcore streets
Catch a quick case, put the hardcore beats on ’em
They on that trap shit, I’m on that booby trap life
Come at me, and you gon’ step on a land mine
These niggas stay running and my niggas stay chasing
They shooting by mistake, my shots calculated
‘Cause prior to the murder I meditated
On post release supervision, I still get it shaking
Infamous reputation, ain’t no fucking mystery
I’m current events, you hip hop history
Boxes of Red Stripe, big ting of marijuan’
Mind like Farrahkan, heart like the Taliban
You talk to me crazy, you dumb
I slap fire out you and bust your eardrum
This is top tier rap, we second to none
Your lil’ bars not strong enough to verse us
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
You know what I’m saying
It’s that Conway, Prodigy shit
That New York State gangsta shit
