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spurs 3 - conway the machine lyrics

lyrics from snippet

[intro: conway the machine]
doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot
look

[verse 1: conway the machine & benny the butcher]
detectives combin’ through the hood lookin’ for a [?]
draco hittin’, i don’t think your body can endure the force
i whip the fish up with a f*ckin’ hanger or a fork
told that b*tch go ahead, sniff what you want, it’s plenty more to snort
i had an outstandin’ warrant for a short
turned myself in rockin’ louis and all my jewelry, i wore to court (hahahaha)
cop pulled me over in my imported porsche
he said, “this car must be a hundred*k”, i said, “you forty short” (short, n*gga)
my n*gga droppin’ bodies for the sport
violate us, got tragedy written all over it like the war report
most of you rappers, i pistol whip you or extort
i’m the machine, i f*ck b*tches you can’t afford to court
clout chasin’, every verse, you name droppin’
taggin’ n*ggas in your post, hopin’ that they comment back and at you in it
i don’t wanna rap, don’t wanna dap you n*ggas
i honestly don’t give no f*cks about bein’ friends with no rapper n*gga
griselda, b*tch, we the inspiration
you can see me and gunn influencin’ all the music these n*ggas makin’
ask b dot and elliot, they’ll tell you yes
ask my n*gga mal and joe budden, they can tell you best
ask the homie wayno and ’em, they’ll confess
lotta albums are suddenly startin’ to feel more griselda*esque
talk to ebro, ask sway in the morning
about the impact of this movement, sure they’ll say it’s enormous
‘member i used to sell the yay with the ak on the corner
now reality tv b*tches keep sayin’ i’m gorgeous
i got the flooded ap, my jeweller sayin’ it’s flawless
that’s probably cap, but what he askin’, i’ma pay it regardless
every other day it’s menages, racin’ garages (yeah)
made the b*tch suck this d*ck ’til she say she exhausted (yeah)
keep a shooter with me that don’t mind takin’ the charges (yeah)
basically, may street made me this heartless, machine (yo)
[verse 2: benny the butcher]
pots with powder ’round the edges, this the crime that i perfected
i had to dodge a lot of questions from crooked homicide detectives
in a raid, white boys with vest*es, powder ’round the exits
sawed*off shotgun, double barrel, i filed it down symmetric
yeah, i snap a finger, scram clap the nina
you lost your b*tch, i haven’t seen her, the cash i got attractin’ singers
a bag of heaters in the back of bimmers
cocaine, there go chain like dmc in them black adidas
i remember when it was dirt cheap
i don’t know what you gon’ name this, but it’s soundin’ like spurs 3
i earned keep now everybody tryna get a verse free
jewels like we do travis scott numbers numbers the first week, keep up
i don’t mention y’all n*ggas’ names, pillow talkin’, playin’ lil’ games
this a man’s world, you at your best when you middle aged
streets waitin’, if i don’t drop, all the hustlers gon’ get enraged
room full of b*tches, first we gon’ f*ck ’em, then get on stage
who knew, i up and married the game, ain’t get engaged
on the prison yard, next to a jack like a ten of spades
griselda, we applyin’ the pressure into the game
these n*ggas talk greasy on tracks and then explain, p*ssy

[verse 3: westside gunn]

- conway the machine lyrics

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