Hide the Body - CONWAY THE MACHINE

Brrt

Yeah

Uh

Pop him in the Bando then hide the body

Took police a whole month to find the body

We the mobsters so I’ma die a Gotti

G Wagon, I embody, skyscraper law with acquired lobby

I drive the Mazi, got the blicky on my hip as well

Get hit with shells, I’m that nigga and your bitch can tell (she know)

It’s water whipped then my clique can tell

Dope boys hit my cell, sat on the paper so long, it’s getting stale

Jue Lan Club eating lobster, fried rice

Chicken satay, peanut sauce, watches got ice

Blood bottles got spikes

Young riders got life

Slung product, high price

Drug violence, Glock fights

Plus niggas I used to run with is rich

From making bricks do frontflips then ate off the strips that I funded

Niggas I used to pump with

Nigga I used to go to free lunch with turned into a killer, he’ll leave you

slumped quick

I keep my pistol on me plotting to shoot

Same 40 belows I seen Pac rocking in Juice

Tucked the 30-shot I got for a deuce

It was a dread, he put a pick in your head, but you’re not from The Roots

I’m the best, the shit I dropped was the proof (TT3)

Wes and Con walked me to the door, I turned up when I got in the loot

I push the button, drop the top of the Coupe

I came a long way from trap kitchen whipping trying to lock up a deuce

You know I’m good out in Yonkers with Louch

Bullets don’t got no names on them, trust me, they’re confident too

Yeah, even in prison, all the opps get it too

I send a kite behind the wall and get him shot for a soup

Knot so big, keep busting the rubber bands off

Hustle gram czar, I can’t call another man boss

Own properties, I don’t got no fucking landlord

Put her in Gucci, I told her take them fucking Vans off, bitch

Gun in hand, I’m dumping like Duh Duh Duh Man, y’all

Turn your back on a thief or you cut his hands off

No bank account, dirty money in the crib washed

My resume with the plug about 300 bands long

The Butcher, nigga

«Griselda»

«Griselda»

«Griselda»