A New Day

[Intro: Ransom] Ayo, ay, Don, ayo, pa– Yeah, turn it up Ayo, pass that, pass that, god Yeah, nah, nah, nah, that The Montegave, the Montegave, yeah That's that premium shit right there, yeah Bet you these niggas ain't see this one coming Ayo, Machine, you already know Let's bring that fucking chaos, that terror [Verse 1: Conway the Machine] Ayo, they still trying to find a flaw I write the bars that's just stories of the ghettos through the eyes of God Me and the Devil had a fire spark Left him getting the lap dance from Nas X in a designer bra Coming up, we aspired to buy a pie of raw Then we moved on to cyber fraud as time evolved I mean, a bullet paralyzed my jaw Still niggas top fives and all, imagine if I started trying hard You boys ain't built for the trenches, you just too brittle My man got hit twice, drove himself to the 'spital They tough in an interview, when you see them, they actin civil Plus, I built my brand up too big to try to be little Momma, there go that man again (Woo, brr, doot-doot-doot-doot-doot) Yeah, the order come in from Cali, I meet him in Cincinnati The music industry, Aggie, I'm staying indie like Haile, bitch [Hook: Ransom] These underhanded heathens Running rampant, gunning slanting, squeezing We in and out them precincts Shootouts in local bars on the weekends Technical fouls, flags on the defense God's blessing their child that's lacking the street sense These underhanded heathens Running rampant, gunning slanting, squeezing We in and out them precincts Shootouts in local bars on the weekends Technical fouls, flags on the defense God's blessing their child that's lacking the street sense [Verse 2: Ransom] There's not a day that goes by that I'm not the greatest Display the bitter class and think you qualified the grade list No matter how much money you stack, you're not on my A-list The blackest grouch on a slave ship A nightmare to addicts when crack was out on the grave shift I turned avenues into cemeteries and corner stores to court to law Slamming the gavel, battle the lords of war Bodies in the corridor Bullets enter his stomach, then exit his lower back Every clap is given his core a door Haunted by demons but I fought 'em off Cold stares, scared of his sixth sense Hear the gruesome tales of a slaughtered whore It's chaos, every day I'm feeling it more and more Who cares if God's winning if Satan's gonna ignore the score? Every street song I wrote for this movie is scored by V. Don No time for the poor peasants and peons We need money like Elon You ain't worth the rug that I wipe feet one, Celine like Dion We out here til the street lights creep on Scriptures that's written about a sheet long Tatted so we can recite each arm Black fatigues, squatting on the opps doing recon Relax and squeeze, stop and send them shots out a Nissan [Hook: Ransom] These underhanded heathens Running rampant, gunning slanting, squeezing We in and out them precincts Shootouts in local bars on the weekends Technical fouls, flags on the defense God's blessing their child that's lacking the street sense These underhanded heathens Running rampant, gunning slanting, squeezing We in and out them precincts Shootouts in local bars on the weekends Technical fouls, flags on the defense God's blessing their child that's lacking the street sense