[Intro: Conway the Machine]
Yeah (The Machine, bitch)
DJ T
Uh, yeah, look

[Verse 1: Conway the Machine]
Faggot-ass judge sentences my dawg to fifty years (That's some bullshit)
He took it like a G and he ain't shed a tear (He good though)
Baby mama cryin', holdin' his lil' daughter
He just wanna appeal to get it down to a quarter (Haha)
Uh, middle finger to the feds
Judges handin' out numbers, puttin' n***as to bed (Fuck 'em)
Free all the G's behind the wall (Free my n***as)
Walk an entire read of books, 'til they mind evolved ('Kay)
Quran in the cell, pray it wrote, final costs (Uh-huh)
Ratchet under his mattress, incase it's time to brawl (What's poppin'?)
Rockin' V2's on the dance floor (Dance floor)
On the streets, I'm known for gettin' grams sold ('Kay)
Uh, I blow a blunt and let my mind go (Smoke)
Sold three bricks, I ordered five more (Five more)
N***as went from sellin' grams to weight (Huh?)
If you ain't ever bust your gun, then you can't relate (Griselda)

[Verse 2: Westside Gunn & Conway the Machine]
Ayo, the main jaw layin' in the pot (I know)
First n***a actin' brazy gettin' shot (Boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom)
Lamborghini off the lot (Skrrt), I pray to God I reach to the top
Flygod, you better praise though (Praise though)
Tryna fuck [?] in a Range Rover (Flygod)
Skeleton on the mastermind (DJ T)
Shot him up close and watched the n***a dyin' (Boom)
Lord, forgive me (Lord, forgive me)
Forty days, forty nights, I kept the MAC with me (MAC with me)
We litty (Brr), the fish-scale pissy, I bench, Stove gettin' busy (Whip)
Whip the whole slab in a jiffy (Jiffy)
Shit ain't even drop, the fiends itchy (Ow)
Long live Barry, scary, we in Paris, smothered in canaries (Canaries)
Blew three-twenty, commissary, this for my old five-five n***as
This for my n***as doin' life, you still alive, n***a
Waitin' on an appeal, scratchin' numbers off, the shit got real
Neck lookin' like a quarter-mill (Flygod)