Camel Eyes

[Verse 1: Lord Sko]

Homie best believe my standards high

Keep a shooter and a bitch who kinda camera shy

Walk through Amsterdam pockets have got my hand inside

I need to smoke exotic chronic just to get a standard high (cough cough)

Yo, this switchblade killed the samurai

Just took your chain and left your man alive with damaged pride (haha)

Catch me out In Venezuela eating camel eyes

Sniffin Pamela Anderson like I’m verified (sniff)

Spent counterfeit twenties at delis just to get the change (uh huh)

How you out here staring blankly at the mess you made (damn)

He be lucky if he see me and don’t catch the fade

Presidented, get to destinations in a Escalade (skkrt)

Spoken through porcelain teeth, yo what your fortune read? (what’s it say?)

Who absorbed the northeast with a corporate greed?

I feel like Orson Welles with a quart of lean

Won the series 4-3, my conduct been disorderly

If he ain’t got nothing for us he get extorted, free (uh huh)

I’m in the Florida Keys, brodie watching these hoes ignoring me

I’m cordial, just been living how I’m supposed to do

My amount of success has been leaving most confused (how’d he do that?)

Dude, I’m walking my collar stained with Taylor Port

I’m like the Mayor of New York in day to day reports

Inspiration, safe to say I been a major source

Wonder how I got in this position, tell 'em stay the course (Uptown shit)

(Remember, stay the course)

[Interlude: Conway the Machine]

Yeah (That's it, that's what you gotta do)

Yeah

Here we go again (Brrrt)

[Verse 2: Conway the Machine]

Look, you catch your first body, you gotta finish it

So after you catch the body, gotta get rid of it

Excited times, the life of crime shit, I was livin' it

I knew I would either be doing or writing sentences

Luckily it’s the latter, see my potential is limitless

Bullet wound in my neck, now I’m covered in 10 Tennises (talk to 'em!)

Yeah, I’m in the spot with the Big Llama

Ran up my bands, cook yams good as big momma

Drumwork Thanksgiving whole family eating

Machine let his hammer off for any reason

Gimme my flowers

I came a long way from makin' real dollars

Sell it to a fiend, look like Bill Cowher

I still tower over niggas, it’s still Griselda this rap shit is still ours

They feel sour

Fuck 'em, them maricons know the time I’m on

Get me outta my zone, get your body blown, pussy