Jealousy in Jokes

[Verse 1: Conway The Machine] Listen you better stay in your place Or get every bone broke in your face Send the goons to kick down the door in your place Take the money and the bricks from out of your safe VIP drinking cold eighths, told the waitress Bitch bring the whole case These niggas rapping like they got they smoke laced I’m grimy like ’94 Ghostface, I put money on your head boss Them little shooters trying to get that bread [?] Sawed off shotty blew your leg off, wig shotters Forehead is leaking red sauce, each side That’s how we on it nigga, don’t trust a soul These niggas might be an informant nigga Everywhere I go my shooter got it on ‘em nigga Stay in your lane, that’s a warning nigga [Verse 2: Tree] Different livings, different apartment building The difference is when you’re in ‘em can you leave Well I’mma get out, fake ‘em out please Breaking out just a dream, [?] in these streets I fell on in New Orleans my first visit And I didn’t miss it, wishing these rappers See the money there [?] I used to want me some wheat tings [?] Got out and got ‘em, met me some felons Now [?] a felon, fucking the helling Homies are bucking and bailing Homies are way up in heaven Never got to see how they [?] Been a month since I dropped Billy Donovan my alias on tax forms [?] turned chemist, my resume learned [?] got a drop with the herb in it Cease with the words in it, drill from the curb, been it Breaking them laws on white folks Tooken turns mending, and earned plenty Nigga act like me, he third wheeling Word isn’t would’ve came through the door But we heard children, told my mama the devil is in me Sometime nigga [Chorus: Chris Crack] Niggas claiming they know me, yeah Niggas claiming they know me, yeah Niggas claiming they know me, when they don’t When they don’t, they don’t, they don’t Niggas claiming they know me, when they don’t [Verse 3: Chris Crack] Benz, uber a black car, she cuss me out in French None of this is making sense as it shouldn’t My work drive like barracudas, pair of hooters to match I want some wings now, fling how it was just for the summer Bundle me up ‘cause it was cold like Ramona Phoning me back ‘cause you was done with them posers Shit I’m good ma, Philly cheese from that hood spot She had more people than Woodstock, I should doctor this motherfucker But here’s a pipe, now put a rock up on that motherfucker I smoke crack with Bob Dole, hot coals from the drive way This was back when MySpace was still cracking Actually they was too fast to combat me, that [?] rather tacky Shacking me up with this buzzer, then on the run now She took care of me so I started love her, some people say I was bugging Juggling several occupations, old school like two-pair dating’s a rare occasion [Chorus: Chris Crack] Niggas claiming they know me, when they don’t When they don’t, they don’t, they don’t Niggas claiming they know me, when they don’t