Lord Of War (Intro)
(专辑: Flyest Nig@@ In Charge, Vol. 1 - 2020)
Peace, peace, yo, it's Westside Gunn, family (Uh-huh) Feel good tonight, man, I'm here, man, I
came a
long way for this Street Entertainment, man, F.N.I.C. (What up) Black Royalty, man (What up), Death Valley, man C'mon, man, nah mean, it's our year, I'm on some '08 shit, man This that feel good, right here Calico M
one-ten, a
hundred rounds in it Rose gold jewels on, selling cracks every minute Big niggas out screaming out, "Two for 15!" Fish scales on the
beam, better dope than Grand Street Watch them niggas lean, got burned clean, bitch For 32 on the
scene, Machine out the
Bim Flavor moccasins on, 400 for the
jeans My man got shot next to me, heard that shit sting Retaliate with the
wings, Hawks and Desert Eags Got Woolrich peacoats with pumps in the
sleeves Pull up in yellow Bimmers like we fucking Latin Kings Shootouts in Dewey Park, left the
TEC by the
swing Pay fees and throw cocktails, heard your mom scream Got goons by each door, you fuckers can't leave I
let the
gat sing, MAC ring, I'm doing my thing-thing 40 cal plus dope with no cut brought us more cream Rock the
Polo sweats, TEC staying up by the
drawstring Scuffed my Bathing Apes hopping over gates, nah mean? Handling six-figure jig, Desert Eagle twins The
kid sprinting from a
Mandela bid, vanilla Benz Gucci lenses, Uzi vicious under Coogi trenches Sick as Pyrex in kitchens, well-invested riches Jewelry glisten, listen, product kicks delicious Christian Diors, Colombian coke bitches Ten K
wrists and Bathing Ape slippers, quarter to eight whippers Cake clippers, air hole TECs with pin triggers Fifteen a
brick, AR-15's to blow I
swear I
seen him flip barefaced to lick shit, invincible Rose gold down on my dick, you despicable Fast life the
way we choose to live Gold fronts laced with the
ruby bridge High school I
wore Iceberg laced with the
Snoopy wig Cops will chase us, razors with residue on it We in the
majors, tri-color Jacobs Yo, I'm too laced, Versace got shot in his face Wait, plate got shake on it, fiends got great on it Raekwon-ers display warnings, shoot at the
head honcho Salvatore Ferragamo's lucky if you make it 'til tomorrow McLarens have 'em staring great Your shit band was mere vanity appearance You 12 to 8, I'm not sharing Ain't no money like money from heroin, nigga, nigga It's fucking Westside gat man (Uh-huh), F.N.I.C. (You already know) Nah mean? We on some '08 shit, man Westside Gunn story, man Nah mean? Guap or die, man, you already fucking know, Black Royalty, nah mean? S. Grill killing the
fucking tracks man, nah mean? We fucking ahead of our time B, nah mean? Just, just fucking listen man, let that shit ride for a
second, man