[Verse: Conway]
Scraping the side of that pot up
Rose gold dweller put your watch up
I got hit on my top when I got shot up
But I know n***as hit in the leg and never got up
Griselda, bitch, we just want the money, fuck the fame
And rap n***as see us and they tuck they chains
It's Conway, you know the fucking name
You said, "it was your year" last year and still nothing changed
No n***as drop like this
I got legends scratching their head
Gotta rearrange their top 5 list, ya' heard?
My little shooter on percocets
I'm only ninety-nine percent, I ain't perfect yet
I fuck the bitches n***as wish, and I ain't buy a bitch a Birkin yet
Pussy so wet I could surf in that
Water ready in the pot, put the work in that
Watch how I lock 'em on the surface when I'm working that
Fifty shot, fold up, I could work with that
Hating motherfucker I see you, where the surgeon at?
I heard the track, then I murdered that
That's why they know my name where they speak German at
I'm from the hood serving crack, I emerged from that
I was out lurking with a Mac, then I merged with Mac
Burning wax in the back of the Maybach with the curtain back
Machine-bitch, this is murder-rap