Conway The Machine - Pat La Fontaine Lyrics
Yeah, Hall and Nash nigga
Free all the real niggas
Rest in peace to all the real niggas
Murder shit nigga
Get down or lay down bitch nigga
You already know nigga
Uh, uh, I got shooters of the roof
Body you, bring back a finger for proof
I pull up with somethin' missin' a roof, a fifth of deuce
My bitches say daddy you got the juice
My kicks was a deuce, now 200 true wax burner
Swish or a Goose, I'm the truth
The official niggas salute
I kill everything Daringer produce
Said he heard the riot when I spun out
I got a call, said my work is finna run out
All my kicks I get a month before they come out
Pull a drum out and rung out, knock a lung out
They sayin' Reject is too evil
The Cuban is two kilos, I'm the new Sigel
Tell them bitch niggas how to look
I pistol whip you then piss in your double cup
Fuck it, give you the whole drum
Nigga I'm easy to find, you know where I'm from
Niggas sellin' hard, gettin' paid easy
Armani V-Neck, grey Yeezy
It's the S.E. Gang, gun long as a hockey stick, Pat La Fontaine
Aye yo
Ringside, Pacquiao/Mayweather
Yeezy boots, Tom Ford grey leather
All navy baby tech spray better
My work costs more cause it tastes better
The Reese's is sly greens, the pig bacon and Thai peas
The Miguels, the Pops, mayo jars layin' in the pot
Told the fiends, "the bell broke," so they knock
My Louis straight on the rocks
Bitches see the big chains so they flock
Beat the nigga in B block with a mop
Supreme bucket on like a sailor
At Bergdorf gettin' tailored
Wrist on ice like the Whalers
You better watch what they sell ya
I'll bet that bullshit don't swim
My connects shootin' bricks with no rim
This nigga paid me with a '010
Smoke it out a [?] can, nigga no stem
I'm fuckin' filthy, real niggas can feel me
Kill me and leave me alone, I'm in the ring
Versace vest, Razor Ramon, with a razor under the tongue
Raise the eight and you're done
Shit, they say they're dipped in sauce. A nugget ain't a nugget 'til it's dipped in sauce motherfucker. You know what it is. S.E. Gang. Bang, bang motherfucker. This what it is. What up Chine Gun? Gunner pap pap, and all that. Shit, Conway. Yeah, Westside Gunn. We from the slums. Buff time baby
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