Letra de ' Beloved (feat. Mach-Hommy & Benny The Butcher) ' de Conway The Machine

Ya, man, rude ting dis
Griselda bwoy

The shit I do with the pen dangerous
In-famous, every bar's ten razors
Hit faces with the ten gauges
Two-eighty-five West in the Benz racing, that's temp-plated (vroom)
I want the money now, bitch, I'm impatient
My lil' bro will buss your shit open for ten Franklins
He been craving for a body MAC-10 stainless
You a big baby ass nigga, Glen Davis (woo)
Raise your glasses, let's make a toast
We restored that feeling in the city, we gave 'em hope
I got on niggas records and made 'em dope
It's funny how niggas you show the most love to is who hate the most
My Dominican bitch sniff a plate of snow
Scratch the serial off the blickers, them shits' untraceable
Uh, I keep the rifle with the laser and the scope
They saying me and West the new Rae and Ghost
Well, I'm humbled by the gesture
Them is big shoes to fill, but I'm not under any pressure
I gave my youngin my gun with the compressor
Gave him fifty for your body, he woulda done that shit for lesser, nigga (woo)
And I ain't even in my prime
Shot in the helmet, I guess it wasn't my time (not at all)
On my brother I'll kill a nigga for my slime
I'm Malcolm holding the yoppa peeking out the blinds

You know it's real when you down, and you set out your books
Held the bible in my hand and I read out the book
Before I had a operation, got fed off of jooks
My lil' brother took the case and I got let off the hook
Collect the pot, then I set the lot (word)
Real street nigga, he met the plug before he met his pops
I swear the size of it left him shocked (pop)
I took the ride just to watch mean mob niggas connect the dots
I made him mess with pots cheffing rock
D's at my door, the work be flushed before the second knock (woo)
Straight to the stage when I left the block (left the block)
Hit the gun section and cop, everything they got left in stock (I need all that)
I check my spot, collect the knot
Church with my grandmother, drop the band in the collection pot
You know my handle, Tony Soprano
A gangsta nigga, I'm Joe Bonanno smoking at the Copacabana (gang)
Got a half a bricky flown from Atlanta (woo)
What you know about hand shots? Tryin' to focus while you loadin' your hammer
Make a wish and I'll blow out your candles
Why you mad, sucker? Come get this ass whoopin', you know I'ma hand you