Juvenile Hell

(álbum: From King To A GOD - 2020)

[Conway the Machine:]
Griselda (Look)

Was a shooter before I rapped and I'm still in action
Thirty-two bullets fill the MAC clip, my niggas active (Brr)
Hollow tips in the strap, I'ma fill his hat with
We clap shit that hit his cap and peel it backwards (Cap)
Break the gas down to fill the Backwoods
I just opened this pack, it was vacuum sealed and still in plastic (Smokin')
I lost hope, you told me you wanted all smoke
Nah, bro, you just a lil' nigga and your bars broke (You broke, nigga)
On Burgard, right off Doat, I sold raw coke
I cried when Country Mike died, my heart broke (My nigga)
On the yard, get your jaw poked, as far as the bars wrote
Not only did I raise the bar, the bar broke (Talk to 'em)
We shoot sticks with see-through clips
You better pray that bitch jam up when we doing this (Ha)
I breeze through Phipps, I need new drip (Huh), the grip on me
Think I'm lacking this time? I'ma leave you clipped
Machine, you bitch

[Havoc:]
Yeah, that leave you split
Wanna put money on it? Nigga, c-note this
All you niggas know what time it is, I'm G, no Clipse
Reload, bitch, your brains all over the whip
The clock ticking, tick tick, nigga, leave you split
Wanna put money on it? Nigga, c-note this
All you niggas know what time it is, I'm G, no Clipse
Reload, bitch, your brains all over the whip
The clock ticking, tick tick

[Flee Lord:]
(Lord, Lord)
You rolled the town, but, nigga, I rolled a six
Cee-lo trips, that forty got a mean old kick (Brr)
Point it at him broad day, then he gon' dip (He gon' dip)
You violate the code, brodie, we on shit (Huh)
Chine and the legend (What), big clean Smith & Wesson (Yes)
716 and big Queens spitting weapons (Boom, boom)
Out in east side Buff', you get your feet tied up (Got him)
Meanwhile, in the boroughs, niggas' streets got touched (Uh huh)
Police got snuffed after he got bust
Turn a body to a bag soon as beef pop up (Brr)
Send a hit through a text while you sitting on your steps (Brr)
That youngin come in running with the grip in his sweats
Black KITH Corona mask, MACs sitting on the grass (Grass)
Now I'm on tours, no more crack pitching on the ave (No)
Sickest in the city (Yeah), got the quickest hitters with me (Got him)
My Cali homie lurking with the blicky in his Dickies, motherfucker

[Havoc:]
Yeah, that leave you split
Wanna put money on it? Nigga, c-note this
All you niggas know what time it is, I'm G, no Clipse
Reload, bitch, your brains all over the whip
The clock ticking, tick tick, nigga, leave you split
Wanna put money on it? Nigga, c-note this
All you niggas know what time it is, I'm G, no Clipse
Reload, bitch, your brains all over the whip
The clock ticking, tick tick

[Lloyd Banks:]
Forty-two in pre-rolled hits
I'm riding dirty, policing without the sheeps don't mix
Des' Eagle grips, don't ego trip, I match designer
Black attire, rapid fire, rest in peace whole cliques
The never scary, more to bury, we bury shit all the time
Need a specialist to examine what's going on in my mind
Lately, your favorite rappers have all been on a decline
I throw back and got better both times, these PCP and coke lines
I'm on my rivals, embarrass 'em with my calm bravado
My alma mater of smacking a nigga horizontal
The soul survivor, you stunting, money be gone tomorrow
Pour out a bottle, tire marks spark the Verrazzano
As far as rhyming, I'm a god, don't pursue the incomparable
Feels like I'm up against the odds, watch me do the impossible
Infatuated with them lights, get you views in the hospital
Soon as you slip up, nigga, bet a blood pool'll be washing you

[Havoc:]
Yeah, that leave you split
Wanna put money on it? Nigga, c-note this
All you niggas know what time it is, I'm G, no Clipse
Reload, bitch, your brains all over the whip
The clock ticking, tick tick, nigga, leave you split
Wanna put money on it? Nigga, c-note this
All you niggas know what time it is, I'm G, no Clipse
Reload, bitch, your brains all over the whip
The clock ticking, tick tick

Griselda