Conway the Machine
Streets Is Bakk
[Verse 1: Conway The Machine]
Real shit, the gangstas got a code
For n***as bustin' they gun and still slang a lot of dope (Hustlin'!)
Big chain around the throat
Fuck bitches and leave, I don't lay around and smoke (Haaa!)
I hate when fuck n***as say they fire toast
But n***as killed your man, why ain't nobody smoked? (What happened to that?)
My plug get the 'caine in by the boat
Re'd up with some much bread he thought I came to buy a boat (Hahaha)
See me in Cali, I came to buy the smoke
Knocking that Nip Hussle with the stainless by the coat (Marathon!)
I don't travel without a gun
These rap n***as is pussy, you call them out, they run
I'm every mеmber of Slaughterhouse in onе
That's not a diss, I'm just saying that I'm hot as shit
All the grams I sold
From Chicago to Pittsburgh like Amber Rose
Uh, goddamn I'm cold

[Chorus: Conway The Machine]
The streets is back, yeah, the streets back n***a
The streets is back, yeah, the streets back n***a
The streets is back, yeah, the streets back n***a
The streets is back, yeah, the streets back n***a!
Yeah, n***as play it and go bananas
Play it while they cooking 'caine and loading up their hammer
For n***as that's dead and gone, n***as that's in the slammer
Real n***as gone' feel this shit from New York to Atlanta
Let's go
[Verse 2: Conway The Machine]
You planning to cross homes
Skull and cross bones
Take the back of the strap, crush your jaw bone (gun-buttin' n***as)
I'm still leaving the club, riding large chrome
Bitch with me, she don't want to fuck? Fuck it, walk home
Fuck is y'all on?
Fuck is y'all on? Chew a n***a like my blue-nose through a dog bone
I have my n***as in your crib, where you call home
Playing with your kids, gun to your baby mom dome (Goon shit)
N***as frontin' like they ain't gotta write it (Huh?)
Then I hear these n***as' music and I'm not excited (Garbage!)
I see a bad bitch, I just gotta pipe it (Come here, bitch)
West got the four wheeler, but I just gotta bike it (Vroom)
Poppin' wheelies on the eleven hundred
Rocking Jimmy's, only eleven hundred
Shop with twenties, only put up the hundreds
Pop the semi, only if n***as want it
Come on

[Chorus: Conway The Machine]

[Verse 3: Freck Billionaire]
The way I dress, you would think Hermes endorse this bill
VVS's on the wrist wear, of course it's real
Tap lightly on the gas, watch the horses peel
Nobody close to me, I know how a orphan feels
Fuck credit, when I shop bitch, I hand them cash
Posted with the white and green, Brandon Bass
Known ghost writer, I can make your verse heat
I get Dwight Wade, Lakers first Heat (Get it?)
I make the hoes wonder, 'cause I'm getting bread bitch
And the new sedan floating like a dead fish
Reptile band, when I got my AP on
I told the jeweler Crockett like Affion
Flying Spurs so the Hefferson know
Freck got a white Bentley like the Jefferson show
Won money out in A.C, casino pays
Drop chips on my clothes, that's Fredo Lays
[Chorus: Conway The Machine]

[Outro: Conway The Machine]
Haha, you see what I mean n***a?
I'm the only n***a in the game that can do this, n***a
Who else can give you a Still Ballin', n***a
And give you this?'
Know what I mean?
At the same time, on the same project n***a
I'm just playing with you n***as, like...
Shit finna get real for y'all