Conway the Machine — Piano Love

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Текст Conway the Machine — Piano Love

Yeah, uh

Bought my bitch the Chanel jacket with the big Chanel bag
Sneak the hammer in the club, the realest bitch I ever had (Ah)
My plug like Lulu, give me whatever I ask
Bucket load like Ace Boogie, I re-up two hundred cash (Hah)
Richest nigga in my city, got my neck on, Rick the Ruler (Yeah)
Press box at all the games, sittin’ next to the Pegulas (Talk your shit, king)
Came up with them brick sellers, and them hundred pound movers (Ah)
I just made another play and bought a FN for my shooters, nigga, yeah

Hood niggas still eat the ramen noodles (Hah)
That load cost an extra five if I got it to you (Cash)
We the mob, you violate that, I gotta shoot you
Send some rocket through you, hollow tips poppin’ to you (Boom, boom, boom, boom)
Griselda keep winnin’, you don’t know how to stop it, do you? (Ha)
In the end, I’m gon’ be on top as usual (I’ma be on top, nigga)
I been keepin’ it rockin’ since niggas was rockin’ FUBU
I don’t care what city you from, you solid, I’ll salute you (I salute, homes)
Whip until my wrist bone hurtin’
Newspapers on them windows, no curtains, fiends knockin’, soul searchin’ (Woo)
Water tuned off in that trap, fuck it, the stove workin’ (Hah)
Pour Poland Springs in that pot, cook up the Os perfect (Talk to ’em)
Jackboy sniffin’ my fifty until his nose hurtin’ (Sniff)
Come through back blocks, ridin’ ’round with the po’ lurkin’ (Cap)
My young boy quit drinkin’ lean, he goin’ cold turkey (Yeah)
Sticks and stones don’t break my bones, and bullets don’t hurt me

Bought my bitch the Chanel jacket with the big Chanel bag (She got the big bag, nigga)
Sneak the hammer in the club, the realest bitch I ever had (I love you, baby, hah)
My plug like Lulu, give me whatever I ask (I get whatever)
Bucket load like Ace Boogie, I re-up two hundred cash (Money)
Richest nigga in the city, got my neck on, Rick the Ruler (You see my neck, right? Hahahaha)
Press box at all the games, sittin’ next to the Pegulas (Yeah, uh)
Came up with them brick sellers, and them hundred pound movers (Yeah)
I just made another play and bought a FN for my shooters, nigga, yeah (Hahaha, look, yeah)

Throw some bake in the pot with some ice, the dope I cook lockin’ (Whip up)
Sneaker box with bands in the bag, you’d think I left Foot Locker (Hahahaha)
Young nigga behind your garage, holdin’ a full chopper
Dropped out of school, decided he just gon’ push product
Lo Pro copped out the five, damn, I feel for him (Pssh)
My nigga came from J in the feds, tryna appeal forty (Free the real)
Bitch love the Machine so much, that ho’d steal for me (Hahahaha)
Say it’s go time and my hitters ready to drill for me (Boom, boom, boom, boom)
Niggas gettin’ smoked in broad day and it’s a shame
Don’t matter if you was in front of the precinct, you gettin’ stained
Ain’t no respect in my hood unless you put in some pain (Hah)
Keep sleepin’ on my city and thinkin’ this shit a game (Think this shit a game)
We don’t play fair, drive-bys right in front of the daycare (Ah)
We spray hairpin triggers, that FN on my waist here (Doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot)
Yeah, garbage bags wrapped around the Ks here
Told you it’s spooky, my nigga, it’s camp Crytal Lake here, Eastside (Brr)

Bought my bitch the Chanel jacket with the big Chanel bag
Sneak the hammer in the club, the realest bitch I ever had (She sneak the hammer in)
My plug like Lulu, give me whatever I ask (Lulu)
Bucket load like Ace Boogie, I re-up two hundred cash (Ha)
Richest nigga in the city, got my neck on Rick the Ruler (Richest nigga in the city, bitch)
Press box at all the games, sittin’ next to the Pegulas (Hah)
Came up with them brick sellers, and them hundred pound movers (Yeah)
I just made another play and bought a FN for my shooters, nigga (Brr)
Machine, bitch (Boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom)

You know what the fuck is up, nigga
Machine, bitch
Alchemist, nigga
Spooky, nigga
Way spooky, yeah
I’m finna slap the black off one of you niggas, man
Haha, keep playin’ with me, nigga
I’ll smack the black off your fuckin’ gums, boy
Machine