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conway the machine - e.i.f. lyrics

[intro]
griselda, by fashion rebels
yeah
uh-huh
yeah
spooky sh-t, n-gg-
way too spooky, n-gg-, look

[verse 1]
hard work instead of talent
but i work harder than n-gg-s and i got better talent (that’s a fact)
than any n-gg- that ever challenged
and tried to knock me off my toes, i had to show him i had better balance
everybody is food, hoodie fake them diamonds
get head in dallas
my b-tch thick like meg thee stallion
as you can see, my bread is piling
still got the elbows flyin’ like i’m randy savage, uh
lately the b-tches give me more v-g-n-
n-gg-s thought i was broke so i bought more designer
i wore the kind of sh-t your ho admire
luxury foreign driver, pistol possession in all my priors
these n-gg-s all are liars
i know some zoes who’ll push your sh-t from opa-locka to fort myers with carbon fire
a hundred for my line-up
my rich white b-tch, her mind was distorted kinda
she snorted imported china (sniff), yeah
pop the taurus and tore a swine up
in front the whole hood, just to give ’em a short reminder
now i’m in position, i got all kind of people callin’ my line
that i ain’t see when i was on the climb up (where was you, n-gg-?)
i still cop jewels and rock ice
seen trig on the news, my dude just got life (d-mn)
rock the christian loubs without spikes
my team can’t win without me like bulls without mike, ah

[chorus]
everybody is food, i told them n-gg-s
they ain’t believe me when i said it, i showed them n-gg-s
i put the yola in the pot, put the soda on top
make it lock, now the knots won’t fold, my n-gg-
everybody is food, i told them n-gg-s
they ain’t believe me when i said it, i showed them n-gg-s
we got extendos in the glock, if it’s drama, let me know
we pull up, hop out, put holes in n-gg-s, ah

[verse 2]
and your b-tch see me versaced down
now i get the money and i just watch it pile
big rocks in the dial where the watch is now
the face flooded but the band is all crocidile
these rappers tryna jump in my lane and copy style
but you too docile, poppin’ choppers is not your style
bust down the cuban, my dominican b-tch is chocolate brown
in spanish harlem eating rocket loud
they gave my n-gg- bettis 40 when he got the trial
i just pray he win that appeal and they knock it down (free the homie)
let a n-gg- get out of pocket now
i’ll drop a bag and have a shooter knock him down while i watch and smile
yeah, a thousand for my belt
meals in different countries without an alb-m on the shelf
already did it on my own, n-gg-, now you wanna help?
i was broke and on the come-up, i ain’t have n-body but myself (f-ck where was you at, n-gg-?)
and daringer, on west and benny
and really, we apparently the best, the semi
i got it with me, i’ll air him with the skrrt and spin him
when it hit him, and it’s tearin’ in his flesh
i’m apparently a threat ’cause they compare me to the best
but who really f-ckin’ with me? ’cause i ain’t hear a n-gg- yet
i’m from 8th street, sellin’ crack and carryin’ a tec
told you it’s gettin’ spooky, this sh-t is scarin’ ’em to death, ah

- conway the machine lyrics

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