Ritual

[Intro] It's not a performance, it's a ritual (It's a ritual) [Verse 1: AZ & Conway the Machine] When I rhyme, it's like the city is mines Play who? No label ain't give me a dime Came through like if you grateful, this how you really should shine Flooded Jesus in that grey coupe at the grittiest times They know me, since '96, wrist was lit with a Rollie Speak of bricks, been in the mix, ain't shit you can show me A king occasionally seen, stay in the wings The success'll be when you closer with folks sprayin' them things In new Celine, the Louis mask over thе grill Do the math, ain't gotta ask, nigga holdin' for real The omеn is sealed, I'm pardoned, back sucker duckin' and dodgin' Fire spitter, who could fuck with the arson? I'm neutral, never frugal, salute you if the feelin' is mutual Play cuckoo, niggas comin to roof you The true school, the vet and the Ghost involved Out of respect, still connect with the older gods It's no façade, I rep it, my style is perfected and epic (Yeah) Not a blemish, let me finish my breakfast (Brrt, uh) [Verse 2: Conway the Machine & Lil Wayne] Look what I did with the pot, look what I did to the block Bust the Presi band, fuck it, look what I did to the watch (Hahaha) Look what I did for the game, look what I did when I dropped My album kicked in the door niggas thought was forever locked I woke them niggas up out they sleep (Hah?) Bum-ass niggas was goin' broke in the projects tryna figure out how they gon' eat (Ha) See how they gon' speak on me, they know I'm constantly bodyin' beats Best to come out of the East since 'Bron in '03 (Talk to 'em) Machine inspired y'all, I fired off first The last year numbers alone, I can retire off merch (Facts) My jacket is Pyer Moss, uh, diamond cross They say I'm a risin' star, the PJ to fly across Earth (Uh-huh) These are the perks, require hard work, but I acquired more worth My niggas built the empire off perch (Woo) That's fish and my niggas had bricks of it (Ah) Fuck this rap shit, we still good for cookin' pies like a brick oven Rick Owens trench on, my wrist flooded (Hah?) Put that drip on and your bitch love it Goyard prints all on my bitch luggage (Talk your shit, king) My neck lookin' like I did Will Smith numbers I'm gon' be runnin' shit the next six summers (Brrt, uh), Machine [Verse 3: Lil Wayne] Okay, all my blunts thin-skinned I smell like pussy, money, weed, where is the incense? I like my drugs intense Make her pussy lips give my dick a hug and kiss Finger fuck then fist I make love then sense, I make her friends kiss But she don't let 'em kiss me, she make her friend sick I make money make money, I make ugly taste lovely I make money in my sleep and deposit what I wake up with Got the Draco on, the gat with the longtail in the back I might break my arm pattin' my own self on the back Break the bank like I break the backboard, they call me Shaq The feds tried to book me, found out that book was an almanac Call me back tomorrow, baby, I'm busy, the work continues I eat rappers alive and ask for the dessert menu After the church, send you the casket and dirt hit you The nina gon' give you head right after she flirt with you Wayne, nigga, put some straightenin' on my name, nigga Gang, nigga, my track record like a train, nigga Young Money, let the moola burn, drip like Lubriderm I was bumpin' AZ and The Firm when you was a worm, nigga [Outro] It's not a performance, it's a ritual (It's a ritual)