Lyrics Conway The Machine – You Kan’t Live Freestyle

I hold semis, I stood in the cold in my old Pennys
We can get it popping nigga, yes
Hand-made mask out of stocking with a TEC
Nigga lose a whole lung when I pop ’em in the chest
I can tell you ain’t getting money rocking them Guisep’s
Ask Cutta, we got it rocking on the steps
At his momma house
Boy, them shoe boxes was a mess
When I’m on the plane only time I’ll be getting rest
But the way that I’ve been getting cheques
I been feeling blessed (talk to ’em)
Yes, 3 thousand dollar specs
Cartiers, pony hair, blood bottoms when I step
You fucking with me, that’s highly unlikely
I don’t play ball
Still getting boxes from Nike, whoa
I know these rap niggas probably don’t like me
I’m killing shit ’til somebody come fight me, uhh
Or somebody come snipe me
I’m from the hood where my shottie rung nightly
Madison Square Garden looking icy
I ain’t court side, but a row behind Spike Lee
Out in Cali, I’m smoking my own strand
Griselda bitch, we started our own gang
You pussy ass niggas should ride in your own lane
Wig shot, close range

Goodbye ya whole brain, motherfucker