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ghost musik - conway the machine lyrics

[intro]
the walls come tumbling down

[verse 1: conway the machine]
it’s the machine, i don’t know what you thought
this beat so hard, i don’t know where to start
one of the illest when it comes to throwing a dart
the yeezy*seven*fifties glow in the dark
three*fifty*seven missiles blow you apart
put a bullet hole in your heart
goons lacking, they lay in your bushes
your face gets pushed in when you put your rover and park
thinking back to when i sold blow in the park
can’t wait till b*tches see this rolley i bought
flood the deci with all kinds of stones
out here in cali hills, smoking on the finest grown (smoking)
verse of the year sh*t every time i jot a poem
’cause i’m ten times iller than this mighty [?]
young boy caught a couple cases
he’s upstate in general population cutting faces
pull up the [?] and pop a couple ace’s
and when i leave, i better pull off in a f*cking sp*ce ship
just to see their f*cking faces
nothing basic, five hundred for my f*cking asics
you know the f*cking fave sh*ts
i don’t do the f*cking fake sh*t (talk to em)
look, my plug is a f*cking racist
he dealing whites only, prices no fluctuation
put the blender in the [?] like it’s f*cking cake mix
bars sharp like the cutlery i cut my f*cking steak with

[chorus: busta rhymes]

[verse 2: aaron cooks]
i rubber*band the infinity bundles
bad boys’ thang, we biggie and puffed them
rittle me something
if i have my young boy sn*tch your soul on thursday
i promise by sat*rday, boy it’ll be nothing
n*ggas be fronting, crying wolf
you ain’t got to sell me minnesota tickets, that sh*t is redundant
cut the plastic and watch it split like franky lymon
(you know the feds cut your line in silence and listen)
i threw a concert in the kitchen
five n*ggas dancing on powder like new edition
the seventh level [?] on the stove
she on a pill, she on a roll, she want roses
i want a rolls, i’m on a roll in this b*tch
you’re now f*cking with the gold of this sh*t
thirty*six melted down and remolded this b*tch
man, f*ck it!

[chorus: busta rhymes]

[verse 3: busta rhymes]
these n*ggas that thought they was nice with the pot
b*tch, i was nastier
number one coke picture, six seeds of [?]
so relaxing when i cooked up sh*t and kept the boy calm
stirred the pot with magical spasms in my forearm
y’all n*ggas faking, just admit it
i’m so nice with the cheffing and i wore apr*ns when i did it
look, dealing with reganomics era
there was never no mistakin’ how i [?]
used to run up in a n*gga gate
they hated when i cripped on fiendss and went off with the plate
we chopped the coke on and then l!cked it
with the scr*pe in the shavings like begging for golden tickets
saliva from their tongue make coke residue turn to liquid
we count grown men money, f*ck all the noise about?
i let it spin on this bread, bring all the toys out
got n*ggas mining in mountains, dug all soil out
y’all n*ggas still sell weed, i went the oil route
[?] something you should avoid best you exit
f*ck n*ggas i’ve watched in the opioid epedemic (sh*t)
[?] mixture bars [?] you best expect it
check it, my creatures raw with people when i send a message (get em!)
washed bottles [?] irish boys, check my method
i problem solve [?] backwards like your boy dyslexic
no exit for you n*ggas and it’s getting cold
while i send a b*tches to vacuum your paper from a stripper pole (got em!)
stay in your lane, n*gga
while i switch lanes on em
go ahead and [?] i switch planes on em
you know i let it blow the flame on em
beautifully do this sh*t again and switch the game on em

[chorus: busta rhymes]

- conway the machine lyrics

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