[Intro: Conway the Machine]
You know
Life is good, man
Life is good
Yeah
Told you
I told you (I told them n***as)
Can't fuck with me, n***a
Brrt
Yeah (Brrt, brrt)
Know what the fuck is up, n***a

[Verse 1: Conway the Machine]
Seen a fiend find a vein in her ankle to shoot it (Hahaha)
Shot that pussy n***a in his knee like we drainin' some fluid (Boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom)
Rob a rapper at his own show, took his chain, and I threw it (Ha)
Stupid (Give me me that shit, pussy)
The renegade, you been afraid, shot penetrated my shoulder
Still didn't knock the chip away, my heart only got colder
Yeah, cold as Minnesota in October
Yola in the pot swole up
Stop, hold up (Talk to 'em)
They startin' to hollow what I sing
They followin' my thing
They gotta acknowledge me as king, n***a (Uh-huh)
Nah, this is god level, Ferarr' yellow
Buyin' every switch, burn 'em with the stick like marshmallow (Boom, boom, boom, boom)
You thirty-somethin' and broke, still drivin' a bitch car
Talkin' 'bout you out gettin' licks off (Hahaha)
I was so comfy in the hood, I can trap with my kicks off (Ah)
Now I'm in that 'Bach, brown interior, call it Biscoff (Woo)
Bitch, I'm the big dog
Draw the plays like I'm Coach Kerr holdin' the clipboard (Yeah)
I take time out, I got warriors on my bench, Chris Paul
Whenever I'm triggered, my trigger finger itch more (Uh-huh)
Reach in my pocket, I can pull hundreds out by the fistful, look (Yeah)
Ain't nobody put me on, I think y'all took it wrong
Y'all better go back, do your Google research, and look some more
Watch them YouTube vids 'bout the man with them bullet scars
West' and Butch' would tell you, it was the crooked jaw that took us off
Verses was eye-poppin', we sky rocketed ('Kay)
My mind shine like diamonds in one of Westside watches (Hahaha)
Went from buyin' sixty-two grams to goin' pie shoppin'
My shooter on tour with me, he just was on Crime Stoppers (Facts, n***a)
Shit, they still lookin' for him
N***a had a brick, gave me two thousand to cook it for him
'Chine give the go, n***as hit your top with a bullet for him (Ha)
I get big money at will, when I'm puttin' letters together, I wheel of fortune
I show n***as love, somehow, I'm still the villain for it
She tryna fuck a rapper so she can feel important
That's why she tryna be all in my section with liquor pourin'
[Chorus: Joey Bada$$]
It's six in the mornin', police at my door
Guns by the bed, money in the floor
Neighbors lookin' at me like, "He sell that raw"
Fiends know it's pure, so they keep comin' for more
And the blood keep callin', time to up that score
One hand scratch the other one, that's just law
Your bitch lookin' at me like, "He got that raw"
Fiends know it's pure, so they keep comin' for more

[Verse 2: Joey Bada$$]
My style is minimalistic, plain Jane simplistic
I'm like Ace and Money Mitch, but really on some pimp shit
Fallin' off ain't too realistic, n***as tellin' tales
Could sell you news stories, but this crack still sells
Rule number one, never ghost the clientele
Fiends linin' at my door, they need that shit now
Ten Crack Commandments, yo, I knows it too well
This the same dope I'm dishin' out, just on a different scale
Let me break it down if you don't see the vicious steel
You see, I got them hooked on the real
I bossed up in and went to Columbia for the deal
Like, fuck the pop a pill shit, this that pure raw they wanna feel
Scarcity in the market, now I'm spendin' the margin
And it's only a problem if the product ain't what it's promised
'Cause any competition get demolished
These n***as know my shit hit the hardest, to be honest
Graduated from the school of hard rock with my honors
Started on the block and made it to the top from the bottom
Used to cook it at my grandmama spot, we was starvin'
Right on Vernon, truth be timeless
Block away from Marcy Projects, we was prospects
Gainin' knowledge on the different ways to fill our pockets
Tryna make a profit in order to afford every object we desired
Like, one day I'll retire
But for now, I'll be the main supplier of that fuckin' fire
[Chorus: Joey Bada$$]
It's six in the mornin', police at my door
Guns by the bed, money in the floor
Neighbors lookin' at me like, "He sell that raw"
Fiends know it's pure, so they keep comin' for more
And the blood keep callin', time to up that score
One hand scratch the other one, that's just law
Your bitch lookin' at me like, "He got that raw"
Fiends know it's pure, so they keep comin' for more