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kostas - westside gunn, conway the machine & benny the butcher lyrics

[intro]
(tay keith, f*ck these n*ggas up)
(griselda)

[verse 1: benny the butcher]
yo, top of the am, i’m cookin’ a batch again
rappin’ and thinkin’ ’bout traffickin’ (traffickin’)
there’s blood on the money, we savagin’ (savagin’)
you can tell by the driveway, we havin’ it (havin’ it)
yeah, we took it easy, so don’t press your luck
when i feel like squeezin’, my blood pressure up
i took two hoes on a date, doubled up
before we go eat, they just wanna get f*cked
pyrex man, yeah, you know my handle
play with them pots ’cause butch don’t gamble
but i’m in vegas with least ’bout a hundred in all blue strips, that’s only two handfuls
grisеlda blanco meets the sopranos
i had to season that chicken likе dan*o’s
sh*t we don’t speak on, all you need to know is
when we put our cleats on, opps get trampled
i got your b*tch on a hit list, n*gga
she’ll leave you for a rich, rich n*gga
ten foreigns deep at the kwik trip, n*gga
i pray for kilos on christmas, n*gga
i drive this b*tch like i got her for nothin’ (skrrt)
she a scorpio, a cancer, she f*ckin’
mini drac’ with the banana, i’m thuggin’ (grrt)
carti’ glasses with the panther (grrt), i’m buggin’
pyrex man, yeah, you know my handle
play with them pots ’cause butch don’t gamble
but i’m in vegas with least ’bout a hundred
in all blue strips, that’s only two handfuls
i got your b*tch on a hit list, n*gga
she’ll leave you for a rich, rich n*gga (she on a hit list, n*gga)
ten foreigns deep at the quik trip, n*gga (at the quik trip, n*gga)
i pray for kilos on christmas, n*gga, butch’ (let’s go, flygod)
[verse 2: westside gunn]
ayo, ayo, i’m the same n*gga with the coke and pots
ayo, ayo, gucci strapback with the polka dots
gucci mlb jersey, who you be? i be worthy
sold them bricks around noon, robbed them back ’bout two*thirty
d&g stove (ah), ‘dweller on froze
yeah, i got that rose plain, hearts on chrome (chrome)
crosses on the chrome, amiris with the bones
red bottom chelseas, indiana jones (jones)
yeah, i got your b*tch f*ckin’ prezi at the low (low)
b*tch never had sh*t, why she take the road? (ah)
pull over, well done, bones filet, well done
shoot a shot and ten more times, left that n*gga well done (grrt)
how you n*ggas kingpins? you ain’t never sell nothin’ (uh*uh)
only tellers tell for, if they pull us, tell nothin’ (uh*uh)
f*ck her like a p*rn star, legend on the rec’ yard
creases on the dance floor, you ain’t been to jail once

[interlude: conway the machine]
you know what it is, sh*t don’t stop, n*gga
i’m just leavin’ the hospital, gettin’ my surgery
f*ckin’ anesthesia ain’t even fully wore off yet
let’s do it again (haha), look, let’s go

[verse 3: conway the machine]
may street, you knowin’ where my crew from
no name n*ggas, where is you from? (f*ck)
we ain’t with the talk, gotta do somethin’
fourth and long, we goin’, we don’t do punts
buddy hield, the bro just wanna shoot somethin’ (ah)
couple mill’ in hundreds, it’s the blue ones (woo)
crash the benz, f*ck it, buy a new one
cut a b*tch off and buy a new one, ha
yeah, lil’ red b*tch, i call her fruit punch
red ‘rari, sh*t from out of dupont
n0bu or wallies when i do lunch (we eatin’, n*gga)
when you do the labor, watch the fruit come
i don’t really like to go to parties, but it’s gon’ cost you fifty if i do come (hahaha)
look, i fraternize with feathers and parolees
twin stay with me, that’s the brodie
any pressure, he gon’ up his polie (boom, boom)
mask on his face like a goalie
n*ggas hatin’, f*ck ’em, die slowly
seen them n*ggas start to get on snake sh*t, that’s when they see me turn to kobe (black mamba)
yeah, like, who these rap n*ggas playin’ with? (huh?)
i’m a silverback with banana clips (yeah)
i’ma peel the cap when i’m sprayin’ sh*t (brr)
look, brought that feeling back is what they say and sh*t (huh?)
woo, the real is back, for a million flat, my last play and sh*t (haha)
smokin’ out a ziploc, the pelle weigh as much as westside bracelet (‘kay)
call me slamface k!llah, grimy rap sh*t, they sayin’ i’m the face of it (yeah)
got a b*tch out the hood, i showed her how to b*tterfly the filet and sh*t (like this)
lobster tail with the black truffle
lots of mail in that black duffel (woo)
i’m the gladiator, i’m the black russell
silencer on the mac muzzle
touch one of mine’s, that’s trouble
i got rich as a b*tch and did it my way, these n*ggas wanna act puzzled
you could’ve made it out of that struggle
but you’d rather hate and you lack hustle (broke)
d*mn, we be on go mode
jumpin’ with the sticks, no pogo (woo)
uh, ice dw logo, try to run down, that’s a no*no (woo)
yeah, every time i post though, your ho keep double*tappin’ my photo (ha)
got this rap game in the chokehold
machine, b*tch, i’m a new prototype (brr)
[outro: sly green & westside gunn]
tell everybody, i’ll tell everybody in the city you my man
everybody (yes), everybody (yes sir)
and yo, man, thank y’all for the what’s the name, man?
thank y’all for the, uh, the record, the sly green record, man, it’s real nice, man (know)
and westside, man, all i got is positive, constructive things to say
can’t n0body say nothin’ to you, about me, about, “yo, dude
he know y’all puttin’ his name—”
them dudes don’t know me like you know me, westside
you could do whatever you wanna do with my name
you, benny, and your man conway do anything y’all wanna do with my name, man (yes)
you my man, man (of course)
you a personal friend of mine (of course)
so you ain’t gotta listen to what n0body else got to say (yes, sir)
you my man, man, come on
man, westside, you my man, man
you know i love you, bro
you my man, come on, man
you know i love you, bro
i know that
and look, man, i’m proud of y’all, man
i seen you on bet, man
when y’all done a thing on dmx
oh, you got to see it?

- westside gunn conway the machine benny the butcher lyrics

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