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toca tuesday freestyle - hall & nash lyrics

[into: westside gunn]
listen…
griselda…

[verse 1: westside gunn]
ayo, your arms too short to box the flygod
saber, just don, brand python
balenciaga, and a sway
my brother dropped out of school
that n*gga’ rather get paid
i graduated high school
skipped college, went straight to the fed
my man said he’d rather do life
than rather be dead
[?] 500 a lead
burgundy toast for the feds
chains on, the brick in 36 pieces
mac in the [?]
white on white lambo truck
they thought the kid was jesus
i could turn one to two
my shooters rocking trench in the summer, too
ya’ll n*ggas’ peasants
i’m excellence, pyrex
we dressed in measurements
only give a b*tch d*ck and peppermint, ayo
walk like a drug dealer, talk like a drug dealer
dress like a drug dealer, sks for a f*ck n*gga’
giuseppe with the gold b*lls, buckets full of gold bottles
silk versace venice sh*t, medusa heads with the gold goggles
rose*gold marcielago
they wacked escobar
welcome home, chapo
spending blood money up in birdhoff
betty halbreich knocking birds off
ingredients, arm & hammer mix
pour crystal in the pot, gotta’ taste the riche
gettin’ million on the corner
fly as f*ck, eating [?]
[?] p*ssy on a foreign
[verse 2: conway the machine]
i ain’t heard one n*gga’ that’s f*cking with the boy, yet
i’m the ferrari scaglietti, you a corvette
seen my man shot, bleeding on my doorstep
had me run a 22 on me, tony dorset
homie, i’ve forever been raw
better than ya’ll, and i’m rapping with a sh*ll in my jaw
the doctor said i damaged my nerves, it’s bells palsy
they tried to mug me i just shook the sh*lls off me
told ’em i’m the machine, that’s what they call me
half my face paralyzed, f*ck it, record me
i mean how they gon’ ignore me
all the b*tches applaud me
the city should award me
your song need help, i would tell you, call me
but i don’t do features with n*ggas’ they can’t afford me
the 2013 sittin’ on 4 g
racks in the stash i ain’t spending till’ i’m 40
i go and get ’em, then i send ’em over
adrian peterson with a brick, i’m minnesota
my money gettin’ long so my women colder
big chain get me wild cat, villanova
we the next guys up
only in gxf i trust
a month in the county, it was just my luck
i left a burner in the stash, d*mn, the tech might rust
you know the best white is chef’d right up
you whip it just right, it just might fluff
we gettin’ money lately, black chyna just might f*ck
she see the lamb sittin’ next to the jet*like truck
whoa…
you know, barkley and kenny smith
[?] my closet, barkley’s and penny sh*ts
ay why you talkin’, you been a b*tch
the ar extended clip tore ligaments
i’m listening, go ‘head with your diss track homie
and see if i don’t leave you with a sh*t bag, homie
shoot the trap up, with this mac on me
i’m taking over new york, b*tch that’s tony
hol’ up

- hall nash lyrics

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