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Westside Gunn & Conway

"Ray Mysterio"

[Intro: Westside Gunn]
Ayy yo (Brrr)
Ayy yo, ayy yo, ayy yo, ayy yo (Ayy yo, ayy yo)
Luxurious fly sh*t (Brrr)
Ayy yo (Ayy yo)

[Verse 1: Westside Gunn]
Turn Judas for them Yeezy Season 3s
The pump's in the sleeves, don't make a n*gga reach
Coke look bleach, a posse of folks by the scene
Bust and duck, take a sh*t, stink (sh*t stink, n*gga)
Same night off for a week
Off-White collab, the MAC hangin' out the Lambo Jeep (Brrr)
If you slip, I better catch yo' ass
Get you 32 real fast (Real fast)
My n*gga this Hall and Nash
The imperial
Everything we shoot got no serials
This fly sh*t through your stereos
Coupe flip like Ray Mysterio (Now Listen)
You f*ck n*ggas don't hear me though
This that Fashion Avenue flow
Get it like tuna and blow it then we blow
They can't do nothin' but respect us (Ow! Ow! Ow!)
Man listen, we got EmpresSil

[Verse 2: Conway]
Tie it to the blood clot (Betta watch yo' head)
Look, n*gga rappin' that's half as ill that can match the skill that's half as real
n*ggas be sayin "Con you have to chill"
'Cause I be spazzin' still, I swear these sucka n*ggas weird
Rap is good, but I will clap 'em still and f*ck up my career
I ain't worried 'bout a jail, don't give a f*ck about them years
Wild until I get the needle or I f*ckin' get the chair
You got a blicky, but you pus*y n*ggas bust it out of fear
My shooter in fatigues, shawty like me huntin' for a deal, yeah (Boom, boom)
Run down on you and fire twice
The bullet wound lookin' like a lion bite
Bullets lookin' like a half a stick of dynamite
I was buyin' guns when you other n*ggas was buyin' Nikes
Rhymer likes Esco when the '90s flow raw as a line of white
I beat your favorite rapper with an iron pipe (Okay)
In the winter, fly to LA, where the climate right
f*ckin' the kinda hoes you'll never f*ck in your entire life (Hahaha)
Versace belt just to tuck the ratchet (Uh-huh)
You can smell the p*ss on them bricks before I bust the plastic (Okay)
Shooters lurkin' for you, they in f*ckin' traffic (They lurkin')
They won't rest until they put you in a f*ckin' casket, ugh! (Brrr)

You had to really, really do something to get killed
Let's take it right on on
You said good for what?
Bottom line (Bottom line)
Word up
It's a whole different world
The f*ck is that?
f*ck you talkin' 'bout?
So you won't be seen on the album
It gon' get loud
Probably ain't got no record player anyway

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