08' Shit (feat. Conway The Machine)

Westside Gunn

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    Niggas feel Kan' 'cause this shit real fam
    Only cop work if its white, or if its real tan
    Sixteen in the clip and one in the chamber
    Now you hit screaming like a bitch, I thought you was gangster
    Laid out bleeding on your kicks dog, my clap is official
    Leave the house without your banger, that's when they get you
    Yo lord my third eye shine bright, blinding your sight
    You ain't seen this much crime in your life son
    It's real out in these fields, every night a nigga get killed
    I'm outside a club waving a steel, you get your shit peeled
    Running up on mine, just 'cause you got a problem with the kid
    Get at the end of something, 'cause it's a long line
    Field boot, Carhartt brown, conceal the four pound
    Let me know if it's going down, we can get it on right now
    (Let's do it)
    Two guns up I'm wylin' till my days is up
    Attacking on shit, trying to fill them cages up
    Niggas up north will blaze you in the yard, get your face cut
    Don't make me have to run in your cage, you fake fucks
    Get your safe touched, I'm straight to the H2 dealer
    To spend that cake up, then I'm murking off in that grey truck
    Twenty fours and screens in it, watching Casino with the team in it
    We? Spinners, getting high, I'm looking fly
    Jeans cost five hundred, there's five guns in the trunk
    Try your luck and get fucked up, what?
    Gucci aviator glasses, Evisu fabrics, blowing a ratchet
    Put a hole in you bastards, for practice
    Told you homeboy, I'm no average
    Try to reach my status and get denied access
    Come home on that jail shit, I'll put a bullet in your helmet
    Finish you will send you to hell quick word, this Street Entertainment
    You can't stop us dawg, what you think them choppers for?

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    I'm like sports seventy sliding coupes off the melody
    Salam lord, still on the run from a felony
    I sold drugs more than half my life, jewellery on
    I make niggas wanna snatch my ice, word life
    We got Lex coupes and Beamers over here
    Pin trigger MACs, bulletproof ask Premier
    Handling nines, banana hammers out son tan five
    Incline-line Cartiers for the summertime
    Le Tigre polos on, three Sixties in a caesar
    Big Cuban links looking like we crazy on
    Medallion swing, you're peepin' 'em lord
    Breathing through a ski-mask, killing my own peoples to get cash
    Fuck 'em, ride through your 'hood in a Beamer wag' yo
    Keep the upstate style, fuck Cristal, we drink Henny straight
    And turn Sly Green wild, million dollar deals on tables
    Canary face Jesus, swinging off a rose-gold cable
    Politickin' on OT money, I think Ohio next
    Cutter just crashed the E-Class, I think I drive the Lex
    Rolex money since eighteen
    Having model bitches titties out while they cooking up burn clean
    Trump Plaza? Evisu sagger
    Doing in your Birk' handbagger, crack bags filled with fishscale
    I do twenty-five to life, as long as I'm rich in jail, A-yo
    I hold an automatic, these streets where I'm from it's heartless
    Plus I like big jewels, and y'all niggas starving
    Le Roy?, throwing money out a Porsche
    Colourful stones watching Al Capone getting tortured
    Drug dealers, cash rule niggas we the illest alive
    A bunch of fly killers holding up nines
    I'm used to, standing on the block all day with dimes
    Salute to blowing up and pushing Q45s
    Peace lord, Bentley is all, take the ARs on tour
    And? See the? For pure, big chains on just bravado I ain't a God
    Since the days with the four, loaded MAC just in case it turned war
    Body died forty shots and I'm look at the board
    Since that thirty dollar double-up hustling in front of the store
    Word boot in your door, Jesus piece flooded galore
    Chrome eight-hundred shot his whole face off

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    Composición: S Billz

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