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westside gunn & conway - fendi seats lyrics

[production by big ghost ltd.]

[verse 1: conway]
machine, b-tch / i k!ll movements
i will snap / promise you, scr-p, i will lose it
strapped with this big -ss mac, i will use it
pop him, then pop him again / he still movin’
niggas got all these fantasies about c-ke sales
ok, my nigga, whatever make ya boat sail
but me, i don’t speak about the shit i don’t sell
i’m a se g, i don’t ride coattails
all it take is a phone call made
four goons, four k’s / get ya porch sprayed
i’m just tryna see my name on a forbes page
my new shit sound like something the lord made
a fuck nigga can’t shake my hand
and it’s fuck any nigga if he snaked my man
you d-ckride when you see me, you straight my fan
i will slap you like a b-tch till i break my hand, my nigga
mad resi on my digi
squares with the stamp in the middle / they smellin’ pissy
nigga in the hood talkin’ all crazy / i’m like “who is he?”
gave my youngin’ the 30 shot, told him to get busy
can’t touch me or my slime, hands-off policy
niggas gon’ riot in the city if a nigga body me
so think before you niggas throw a shot at me
no respect / goons outside the church where yo momma be
it gotta be like that / i know a nigga, let his pipe clap
they gave him 25 to life
he appealed it and gave them crackers that life back
18 in and 7 left, then he back just like he never left
50 pull ups on the bar, now he’s on his 11th set…

[verse 2: westside gunn]
ayo
now that i got your attention, i’d like to mention
i’m gifted / purple label suspenders / mac-11 extended
runnin’ with k!llas / margielas on menaces, dealing fish
using too much soda was ignorant
mind ya business or ya brains gon’ hit the ceiling
allah willing, i can count right a half a billion on a yacht chillin’, rockin louis linen / who he kiddin’?
you couldn’t tie the strings of my europeans
see ’em / shoot his bm in the bm
i had to leave ’em…leakin’, stinkin’
almost threw up / you shoulda seen it
diadora “purple tapes” screachin’
i hopped the fence, jumped in the gl benz, cartiers, no lens
my nigga started reachin’
make sure you hit every mothafucka in site
throw them shits in lake erie tonight
he said “chill god, aight”

- westside gunn conway lyrics

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