Spurs 2
(专辑: More Steroids - 2017)
[Conway:] Look, my brother ain't gotta rap no more, I
got it covered You see we bringing these streets back, you gotta love it Niggas clap me, that's why the
ratchet I
gotta lugg' it Told Camino bring a
lot of dutches while I
jot a
fucking classic I
got me a
badder Rollie, I
got it flooded Bitches love me like LL when I
rock the
bucket Don't think it's sweet, I'll have this chopper busting out in public Empty the
stick, broad day, niggas said I
was bugging We got this shit popping without a
budget When you speak the
best in the
game, my name you gotta discuss it [?] rushing, you said it's a
problem, let's get to the
bottom of it Then shots erupted, fuck it Tesla X
with the
doors lifted More Steroids, that's more sickness More her-on and more bricks in More AK's with 30 shots or more clips in (talk to 'em) The
Lord is my witness Heard the
homie was snitching, but shit that ain't my man Sometimes you gotta cut off a
finger to save your hand Damn, hate to see his face or even shake his hand Sometimes I
wanna have him clapped, it only take a
gram Look, I'll embarrass you on your block Stomp you bloody in my Baleicaga low tops I
whip a
whole block, then momma owe pops Uhh, cocaine resi' on momma stove top, Machine bitch [Benny:] Yo, ay look Where I'm from nobody drug free, but the
drugs cheap We sell 'caine at NFL games, we sit in club seats The
hate strong, but the
love weak That's why we buy a
lot of guns, say fuck Donald Trump, but we love Meech Nigga, I
treat the
trap like I'm in a
office Stack and pray they come ask for H
like it's Wheel of Fortune I
can't trust niggas, I'm feeling cautious This life only fit for bosses, I'm penning thoughts while I
fill a
cartridge Ain't nothing Hollywood, I'm still in the
trenches MAC extended like the
John Wall deal with the
Wizards I
burn you, I'm like the
Colonel, I
got a
meal with a
biscuit The
raw is clean, I'm Paula Deen, I
got a
feel for the
kitchen Yeah, I
terminate rappers, so I
think it's ironic I'm with the
Machine, I'm feeling like John Connor Out in Miami in the
high rises, I
seen prices sky rocket Numbers going up like hydraulics We strapped, so we ain't asking if a
ratchet round Shooters graduate to killers, then they get a
cap and gown When I'm back in town, niggas know the
pack in town If you open, then I
toss it, I'm Joe Flacco now I
was on the
upstate bus, feet shackled down Took it like a
man when the
judge slammed the
gavel down Crumpled money from the
fiends, we was up late Nigga, I
really cut a
brick out of duct tape They don't call me the
Butcher for nothing In my bitch kitchen, whipping trying to cook up a
onion Real gang shit, everybody with us a
hunnid I'm the
dopest, I'm the
poet with the
look of a
hustler, Butcher