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lalo (original) - conway the machine & benny the butcher lyrics

[intro: conway the machine]
woo, woo

[verse 1: conway the machine]
don’t minimize my grind i’ve been on
k!llin’ time since the minute that i signed
you ain’t findin’ these kicks, these sh*ts is limited design
my mom pick the decor for the interior design, look (get the house right)
we about ownin’ properties, how it got to be
too many shots, deceased
then they mom’s gotta sell dinners when they die
like (tss), that’s the atrocity (it’s f*cked up)
take your trap money, buy back the hood, that’s my philosophy (uh*huh)
but n*ggas be speedin’ through lifе, high velocity
i’m in a drop, two*seater, b*tch with mе lookin’ like jocelyn
i’m askin’ god to please kalan and me (haha)
let me take on shoppin’ spree
n*ggas ain’t flyer than me and can’t f*ck with me sonically (talk to ’em)
these new rap n*ggas my sons, i’m feelin’ fatherly (uh*huh)
respect it more than your father, boy, you should honor me (woo)
well, f*ck your father, i would take my razor to his face
and leave the scars shaped like an apostrophe, look (hold that)
machine back, the n*gga they can’t f*ck with
i’m just gettin’ in my groove, i’m really just gettin’ adjusted (i’m gettin’ in my bag)
look, i mixed the soda with the yola and i fluffed it (whip)
cooked my first quarter brick and f*cked it up, ’cause i rushed it, ah (swear to god)
two ounces bagged up in twenties, i’m disgusted
when neiman and johnny walker raided the spot, i flushed it (toilet bag)
n*ggas talkin’ all this rich sh*t and all this tough sh*t
that b*tch you puttin’ babies in, n*gga, i wouldn’t touch (hahaha)
with a ten for pole, bought me a benz to stroll (ah)
neck full of expensive gold (ah)
wrist got presidential role (ah), bottega on my b*tches’ toe (woo)
uh, bentayga when she hit the rogue
i pay for and that b*tch is cold, i’m basically a different zone
[chorus: conway the machine & benny the butcher]
drug money (drug money), drug money (talk to ’em)
them b*tches love n*ggas with drug money (drug money)
f*ck on her good, then she can’t get a hug from me (hahaha)
the b*tches love n*ggas with drug money, yeah (drug money)
drug money (uh), drug money (real sh*t though)
them b*tches love n*ggas with drug money (neiman and johnny walker)
n*ggas postin’ pics on the ‘gram with the plug money (raided my sh*t twice)
so n*ggas kick down your door for the drug money, yeah (the butcher comin’, n*gga)

[verse 2: benny the butcher]
i’m tryna be careful ’bout what i say on this
ain’t talkin’ food when i say filet*o*fish, that’s a yayo dish
get with me, bills crispy, straight from the bank with it (n*gga)
countin’ sound like openin’ bags of potato chips (hahaha)
f*ck these funny artists that know about money launderin’
price is so low, other hustlers hope i get caught again
i’m in my hood, f*ckin’ around with my homie, arguin’
’bout who sold more, if it’s him (sh*t), least i taught him it
peddle cocaine, mexican grade, then i stepped on mine with it (i did)
what they sayin’, except for i am secure as the foi (ah)
i can detect a spy (i can), they tryna connect the guys (for real)
from the corner, we fed with pies, the word is i bled it dry
my old motto was “if she wanna spend, she gotta help trap”
but puttin’ my b*tch in harm’s way, it wasn’t no sense in that (uh*uh)
’cause i need her to have my back, in case somebody else cracked
i let her spend all these racks, but remind her that i’m the catch
these bricks that i’m handlin’ and these shifts that i’m managin’
made me and my friends famous, like jennifer aniston (let’s go)
it’s gon’ take drug money to keep her especially (ah)
she either ginger rothstein, or keisha from belly, let’s go
[chorus: conway the machine]
drug money (drug money), drug money (talk to ’em)
them b*tches love n*ggas with drug money (‘kay)
f*ck on her good, then she can’t get a hug from me (hahaha)
the b*tches love n*ggas with drug money, yeah (drug money)
drug money (drug money), drug money (drug money)
them b*tches love n*ggas with drug money (drug money)
n*ggas postin’ pics on the ‘gram with the plug money (ah)
so n*ggas kick down your door for the drug money, yeah

[verse 3: stove god cooks]
last night i got a call from my stove, she said
you took my name, hung me from your neck in ice
i know i should be grateful, but i don’t
want these kids that in here after you to think this sh*t’s a joke
they spill powder on my face and they don’t even wipe me off
bring a bunch of n*ggas round that i know don’t follow code
treat me like these other hoes
get me high, turn me on, i’m better on medium low
come on you know that stove, tell ’em exactly how it go
the ice hit the hot pyrex and it break like in yo’ song
now he lost money, go on and f*ck this yay up
probably still owe whoever, how he gon’ pay ’em
diggin’ glass up out my eye, but really they the one can’t see
i’ma be here between these counters when they come and grab yo’ team
i’m just tryin’ to help ’em eat
i watch they mommas and they grandmommas stand in front of me
and cry and say that they need to get they sh*t together
runnin 20 deep can’t buy a brick together
cause they don’t listen never
nah, or they listenin’ to n*ggas like you, stove
that talk all that sh*t and think that it’s gon’ come that easy too, stove
tell ’em how i used to help you turn 14 to 32
when all you had was your re*up, tunnel vision and no jewels
or that investigation room, that’s when you find out who your friends is
when you wish you stayed low and kept them n*ggas out yo’ business
why you don’t tell ’em that?
but all they hear you singin’ is
[chorus: conway the machine]
drug money (drug money), drug money (talk to ’em)
them b*tches love n*ggas with drug money (‘kay)
f*ck on her good, then she can’t get a hug from me (hahaha)
the b*tches love n*ggas with drug money, yeah (drug money)
drug money (drug money), drug money (drug money)
them b*tches love n*ggas with drug money (drug money)
n*ggas postin’ pics on the ‘gram with the plug money (ah)
so n*ggas kick down your door for the drug money, yeah

[verse 4: 38 spesh]
these hoes meet you and have a field day
she got you saved in her phone under “bill paid”
i watch sports on a chill day
cop brick by the staples center, but send ’em where the bills play
don’t trust hoes cause they will stray
f*ck a b*tch, this blue steel tray is my real bae
you gon’ need something that k!ll pain
i bring a 500 judge to a fight like it’s mills lane
i don’t treat a hoe great, i treat a hoe fair
if you treat a hoe great then she won’t care
take a hoe on a date, b*tch i won’t dare
might get a to*go plate, we can both share
king of the streets, i did the most here
set the city on fire, build an empire before the smoke clear
yeah, i just hit a big weight robbery
gamble with life, like it’s the quick play lottery
i give sp*ce and privacy
n*gga i could teach a class about bars and call it mixtapeology
a b*tch can’t lie to me, i only let her take d*ck
you let the b*tch dictate policy
trust

[outro: conway the machine]
drug money (drug money, drug money)

- conway the machine benny the butcher lyrics

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