LALO (Original)

[Intro: Conway the Machine] Woo, woo [Verse 1: Conway the Machine] Don't minimize my grind I've been on killin' time since the minute that I signed You ain't findin' these kicks, these shits is limited design My mom pickin' decor for the interior design (Get the house right) Look, we about ownin' properties, how it got to be Too many shot, deceased Then they moms gotta sell dinners when they die, like (Tss), that's the atrocity (It's fucked up) Take your trap money, buy back the hood, that's my philosophy (Uh-huh) But niggas be speedin' through life, high vеlocity I'm in a drop, two-seater, bitch with me lookin' likе Jocelyn I'm askin' God to please Kehlani me (Haha) Let me take her on shoppin' spree Niggas ain't flyer than me and can't fuck with me sonically (Talk to 'em) These new rap niggas my sons, I'm feelin' fatherly (Uh-huh) Respected more than your father, boy, you should honor me (Woo) Well, fuck your father, I would take my razor to his face and leave the scars shaped like an apostrophe Look, Machine back, the nigga they can't fuck with I'm just gettin' in my groove, I'm really just gettin' adjusted (I'm gettin' in my bag) Look, I mixed the soda with the yola and I fluffed it (Whip) Cooked my first quarter brick and fucked it up 'cause I rushed it (Swear to God) Ah, two ounces bagged up in twenties, I'm disgusted When Neiman and Johnnie Walker raided the spot, I flushed it (Taliban) Niggas talkin' all this rich shit and all this tough shit That bitch you puttin' babies in, nigga, I wouldn't touch with A ten foot pole, bought me a Benz to stroll (Ah) Neck full of expensive gold (Ah) Wrist got presidential Role' (Ah) Bottega on my bitch's toe (Woo) Uh, Bentayga when she hit the road Got paper and that bitch is cold I'm basically a different zone [Chorus: Conway the Machine & Benny The Butcher] Drug money (Drug money), drug money (Talk to 'em) Them bitches love niggas with drug money (Drug money) Fuck on her good, then she can't get a hug from me The bitches love niggas with drug money, yeah (Drug money) Drug money (Uh), drug money (Real shit though) The bitches love niggas with drug money (Neiman and Johnnie Walker) Niggas postin' pics on the 'Gram with the plug money (Raided my shit twice) 'Til niggas kick down your door for your drug money, yeah (The Butcher comin', nigga) [Verse 2: Benny The Butcher] I'm tryna be careful 'bout what I say on this Ain't talkin' food when I say Filet-O-Fish, that's a yayo dish Get with me, bills crispy, straight from the bank with it (Nigga) Countin' sound like openin' bags of potato chips Fuck these funny artisans, know about money launderin' Price is so low, other hustlers hope I get caught again I'm in my hood, fuckin' around with my homie, arguin' 'Bout who sold more, if it's him (Shit), least I taught him it Peddle cocaine, Mexican grade, then I stepped on mine (I did) We the same, except for I am secure as the FOI (Ah) I can detect a spy (I can), they tryna connect the guys (For real) To the corner we fed with pies, the word is I bled it dry My old motto was, "If she wanna spend, she gotta help trap" But puttin' my bitch in harm's way, it wasn't no sense in that (Uh-uh) 'Cause I need her to have my back in case somebody else cracked I let her spend all these racks, but remind her that I'm the catch These bricks that I'm handlin' and these shifts that I'm managin' Made me and my friends famous like Jennifer Aniston (Let's go) It's gon' take drug money to keep her especially (Ah) She either Ginger Rothstein or Keisha from Belly, let's go [Chorus: Conway the Machine] Drug money (Drug money), drug money (Talk to 'em) Them bitches love niggas with drug money ('Kay) Fuck on her good, then she can't get a hug from me The bitches love niggas with drug money, yeah (Drug money) Drug money (Drug money), drug money (Drug money) Them bitches love niggas with drug money (Drug money) Niggas postin' pics on the 'Gram with the plug money (Ah) 'Til niggas kick down your door for your drug money, yeah [Verse 3: Stove God Cooks] Last night I got a call from my stove She said "You took my name, hung me from your neck in ice, I know I should be grateful, but I don't Want these kids that's in here after you to think this shit a joke They spill powder on my face and they don't even wipe me off Bring a bunch of niggas 'round that I know won't follow code Treat me like these other hoes Get me high, turn me on, I'm better on medium low Come on, you know that, Stove, tell 'em exactly how it go The ice hit the hot Pyrex and it break like in your song Now he lost, money gone, and fucked his yay up Probably still owe whoever, how he gon' pay 'em? Diggin' glass up out my eye, but really they the one can't see I'ma be here between these counters when they come and grab your team I'm just tryna help 'em eat I watch they mamas and they grandmamas stand in front of me And cry and say that they need to get they shit together Runnin; twenty deep, can't buy a brick together 'Cause they don't listen never Nah, or they listenin' to niggas like you, Stove That talk all that shit and think that it's gon' come that easy too, Stove Tell 'em how I used to help you turn fourteen to thirty-two When all you had was your re-up, tunnel vision and no jewels Or that investigation room, that's when you found out who your friends is When you wish you stayed low and kept them niggas out your business Why you don't tell 'em that? But all they hear you singin' is" [Chorus: Conway the Machine] Drug money (Drug money), drug money (Talk to 'em) Them bitches love niggas with drug money ('Kay) Fuck on her good, then she can't get a hug from me The bitches love niggas with drug money, yeah (Drug money) Drug money (Drug money), drug money (Drug money) Them bitches love niggas with drug money (Drug money) Niggas postin' pics on the 'Gram with the plug money (Ah) So niggas kick down your door for the drug money, yeah [Verse 3: 38 Spesh] Ayo, these hoes meet you and have a field day She got you saved in her phone under, "Bill pay" I watch sports on a chill day Cop bricks by the Staples Center, but send 'em where the Bills play Don't trust hoes 'cause they will stray Fuck a bitch, this blue steel tray is my real bae You gon' need somethin' that kill pain I bring a five hundred judge to a fight like it's Mills Lane I don't treat a ho great, I treat a ho fair If you treat a ho great, then she won't care Take a ho on a date, bitch, I won't dare Might get a to-go plate, we can both share King of the streets, I did the most here Set the city on fire, build an empire before the smoke clear Yeah, I just hit a big weight robbery Gamble with life like it's the quick play lottery I give space and privacy Nigga, I could teach a class 'bout bars and call it mixtapeology A bitch can't lie to me I only let her take dick, you let the bitch dictate policy Trust [Outro: Conway the Machine] Drug money