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conway the machine - benz window lyrics

[production by daringer]

[intro]
you know how we can purchase a couple of tec-9, semi-automatics, extended magazines?

hold on, who? tec-9’s? the f-ck for?

it’s a family problem

[hook: conway]
give them n-ggas the drum
roll down the benz window let off twenty-one
young and dropping bodies like it’s fun
fifty on his head, his own shooters get it done

[verse 1: conway]
pyrex pot, got the yola resi’
shoot a fifteen with the sweeper hold it steady
james patterson with the pen, i’m writing thrillers
i write it for k!llers, they treat my words like bible scriptures
had the youngin fire the bl1cka
tryna peel the cap for that contract he never seen that type of scrilla
i ain’t like these weirdo rappers, i’m a psycho n-gga
grimy like tyson in the ninetie n-gga, you bryson tiller
homie that’s on dogs i never liked you n-ggas
hit you with some sh-t outta this automatic rifle n-gga
praise me, i’m like christ to n-ggas
them large n-ggas was blind i dropped the sh-t and gave sight to n-ggas
load the m-16 rocking supreme
nowadays they don’t make diss songs, they making memes
till i find them and run down on and ’em and let it ring
b-tch there ain’t a rapper alive f-cking with the machine

[hook: conway]
give them n-ggas the drum
roll down the benz window let off twenty-one
young and dropping bodies like it’s fun
fifty on his head, his own shooters”ll get it done

roll down the benz window let off twenty-one
fifty on his head, his own shooters get it done

[verse 2: conway]
the shooter squeezing, he a heathen when he snort
m-16 reaching leave you bleeding on your porch
look you keep running your d-cksuckers that’s the reason you a corpse, water whip it up i’m seasoned with the fork
i’m blowing money up in neiman for the sport, ran up in ? bet i’m leaving in the ?
got pulled, bailed out and i ain’t even go to court
my homie say my flow raw like the keys that he import
you talking like you that official and you clapping pistols
i drop a bag on you and have my savage get you
chopper chop your body up it’s looking like some axes hit you
f-ck you and them f-ggot n-ggas rapping with you
shout out my bmore homie that love the clappers whistle
hit a p-ssy n-gga, snap back with missles
empty the whole magazine, give them the drum with love from the machine

[hook: conway]
give them n-ggas the drum
roll down the benz window let off twenty-one
young and dropping bodies like it’s fun
fifty on his head, his own shooters”ll get it done

roll down the benz window let off twenty-one
fifty on his head, his own shooters get it done

[verse 1: prodigy]
go looking for a n-gga, i catch him at his stomp ground
hop out with the ?, brrrap him and his boys down
high level violence, maximum overload
p-ssy n-ggas crying like “p you took it overboard!”
my pops raised a gangsta, and you just a bird to me
i don’t give a sh-t who you shot who you murked homie
name ringing bells i give him his first l, and he was so sure that i was so soft
shots flashed like the lightning, it’s heavy metal gear
he let his fear overpower his mind and think clear
all these bullets set your beard on fire, when weird -ss n-ggas come f-cking with live ones
when real -ss n-ggas come f-cking with a no f-ck giving -ss n-gga, coroner taking pictures off your body sliced open you’re posed for the autopsy
oh these n-ggas telling? well tell them send more cops
p, i’m at your neck
said you tattooing tears but ain’t even k!ll a p-ssy yet
i f-cked the truth out her, confessing her sins
she tell me everything how i know where your momma live
later for a b-tch, i’m busy holla back soon
the paper boy, empire state boy, rap ?
so whoever in my way up, clowns with the make up
you ronald mcdonald face f-ck i’ll straight up
paint more red on your forehead
i don’t want your jewelry, n-gga i just want you dead
i don’t want your money, you gon’pay me with your soul and i will drink red rum from your skull

[hook: conway]
give them n-ggas the drum
roll down the benz window let off twenty-one
young and dropping bodies like it’s fun
fifty on his head, his own shooters”ll get it done

roll down the benz window let off twenty-one
fifty on his head, his own shooters get it done

- conway the machine lyrics

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