ARABIAN SAM'S (feat. Styles P)

Conway The Machine

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    Grimy, grimiest of all time, nigga
    What's poppin', nigga?

    Where the drama I want it to pop
    I'm givin' niggas shit bags from stomach shots
    Stick blast, quick fast, clip has, 100 shots
    Peace to them niggas that whip glass and run the block
    My nigga Dunns got caught with a sack (?)
    Got a bag for him when he come home, that niggas family
    Hood nigga, never give a fuck about a Grammy
    The real niggas that been through it, they understand me
    Same niggas sendin' threats, them niggas quiet
    He don't wanna feel the chopper bullets settin' him on fire
    Knife work, gun work, whatever is required
    Shootin' fire in this weapon, spittin' lead 'til you expire
    I went from bein' locked in cages to rockin' stages
    350 to them 950 (?) kicks
    Y'all can spray if I okay'd it
    Youngin got the sawed-off, them niggas chop the gauges
    They not to play with
    No socks when I rock the (?)
    Sendin' pounds over, I just prayed them boxes made it
    Grimiest of all time when I jot them pages
    That's why my fuckin' name ringin' like them slots in Vegas
    Hear me, nigga? Hate niggas who front
    I know you pussy, niggas clapped you
    And you wasn't in that prison a month
    Runnin' your dick sucker, that'll get you hit with the pump
    Or I'm firin' the stick 'til you slump
    It's The Machine, bitch! (lay the fuck down, pussy nigga)

    (Lay the fuck down, pussy nigga)
    Nobody don't move or the gun blows, gun blows
    (Nobody move, nigga, be still fuck nigga)
    Nobody don't move or the gun blows, gun blows

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    Deadly, a raw dose of heroin
    Firearm, fishscale, fuck let the felon in
    Ferrari dreams since Atari games
    Catch him in the lobby and kill him, we heard he body things
    Everybody let the machine pop
    We gon' catch you slippin' off percs leavin' the lean spot
    Bitch nigga I get ya sister hit
    Nah I'm just pistol whipped ya chillin' with the stripper
    Bitch to be around the way, every day on some mission shit
    Line a nigga up, deep water, no fishin' shit
    You baitin', no chance to escape
    I'm in the base 10 to 8 when the coke price deflates
    So Conway, I surely know the way of the con
    Deck of cards in the Qur'an like I'm waitin' to bomb
    Long kind, short kind, I ain't playin' for bronze
    Gun Olympics, the Ghost don't pass the baton, what up?! Yeah

    (Lay the fuck down, pussy nigga)
    Nobody don't move or the gun blows, gun blows
    (Nobody move, nigga, be still fuck nigga)
    Nobody don't move or the gun blows, gun blows

    Conway, what up?
    Salute my G, Ghost, D-Block
    Yeah, I like the feel of this, haha
    My type of shit

    Song details

    Composition: Daringer

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