Dunks

[Intro: Conway the Machine]

Whosoever is born of God doth not commit sin for his seed remaineth in him

And he cannot sin, because he is born of God

Buck!

Yo

Griselda, by Fashion Rebels

Hold up

[Verse 1: Westside Gunn & Conway the Machine]

Ayo, arm, leg, leg, arm, head

Dread said put the TEC in the leg, then sick the Heckler instead

His baby moms got his head in her lap, screamin' that he dead

I learned to politic ditto in the feds

Cherry X-7, see me on tour with the Wesson

Learn your lesson, my man got eighty-one, stressing

Never seen his kids once, you fake niggas front

Pucci trench coat, everything new but the pump

2K for the dunks, the SBs

Gianni swim trunks on jet skis

Threw the gat away, leave his face in his madam's plate

Saddam told me, "Hit the gravel and agitate"

Spot makin' 20K a day, easy

Chopped the nigga hands off for his brick, steady greasy

I make this fly shit look easy

Finnish Guess, the guests were in the kitchen

Flippin', you broke niggas better pay attention (Doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo)

Hahahaha

(Griselda)

Look

Listen

[Verse 2: Conway the Machine]

Hold the torch to the wax pipe

I'm a torch, you a match strike

Before you talk, get your facts right

Nigga, I'll beat a fucking cop with his own flashlight, I ain't wrapped tight (Hahahaha)

Two hundred bars? Nigga, that's light

Riccardo Tisci black Nikes, the MAC-11, got it half-price ('Kay)

A glass of 'gnac, splash the ice

My life's a roll of the craps dice, blow the strap, plus I rap nice

Woo, probably bring it to your doorstep

Had amigo wrappin' before Offset (Talk to 'em)

Heh, probably went over your head

I said, "I had 'migo wrappin' 'em before Offset" (Hah)

Nigga, that's wrappin' up a square

You rapping 'bout the trap when you actually wasn't there (Where was you?)

I swear, a lot of new rappers is weird

They wearing leggings and dyeing they fucking hair (Hahahaha)

I swear, gotta admit I'm that nigga

In the last two years, show me who did it bigger (Huh?)

Rocking furs for the winter

I might put fox on like '96 Jigga (Woo)

Real niggas follow the codes

Lil' homie was fourteen, six bodies, nigga out of control

I'ma put the pot on the stove for a knot I can hold

Told the cops to suck a cock, nigga, I didn't fold

In V.I.P., twenty bitches, all the bottles is gold

Your WCW wanna swallow me whole

As do a lot of these hoes

Balenciaga with the croc on the toes

You niggas pussy, y'all finally got exposed (I see through y'all niggas)

I'm on my motherfucking job

These niggas wanna be king, but what's a king to a god? (Ah)

I'm really 'bout that action, homie, that ain't no façade

In the booth, I'm DeAndre Jordan catching the lob ('Kay)

[Outro]

Nosotros...

Somos bandidos

No sapos, hijueputa

Hahahahahaha....!

No impor–

¡Los van a matar a todos, hijueputas!

¡Todos están muertos, hijueputas!