Juvenile Hell - CONWAY THE MACHINE, Lloyd Banks, Havoc

Was a shooter before I rapped and I’m still in action

Thirty-two bullets fill the MAC clips, my niggas active (Brr)

Hollow tips in the strap, I’ma fill his hat with

We clap shit that hit his cap and peel it backwards (Cap)

Break the gas down to fill the Backwoods

I just opened this pack, it was vacuum sealed and still in plastic (Smokin')

I lost hope, you told me you wanted all smoke

Nah, bro, you just a lil' nigga and your bars broke (You broke, nigga)

On Burgard, right off Doat, I sold raw coke

I cried when Country Mike died, my heart broke (My nigga)

On the yard, get your jaw poked, as far as the bars wrote

Not only did I raise the bar, the bar broke (Talk to 'em)

We shoot sticks with see-through clips

You better pray that bitch jam up when we doin' this (Ha)

I breeze through Phipps, I need new drip (Huh), the grip on me

Think I’m lackin' this time?

I’ma leave you clipped

Machine, you bitch

Yeah, that leave you split

Wanna put money on it?

Nigga, c-note this

All you niggas know what time it is, I’m G, no Clipse

Reload, bitch, your brains all over the whip

The clock tickin', tick tick, nigga, leave you split

Wanna put money on it?

Nigga, c-note this

All you niggas know what time it is, I’m G, no Clipse

Reload, bitch, your brains all over the whip

The clock tickin', tick tick (Lord, Lord)

You rolled the town, but, nigga, I rolled a six

Cee-lo trips, that forty got a mean old kick (Brr)

Point it at him broad day, then he gon' dip (He gon' dip)

You violate the code, brodie, we on shit (Huh)

Chine and the legend (What), big clean Smith & Wesson (Yes)

716 and big Queens spittin' weapons (Boom, boom)

Out in east side Buff', you get your feet tied up (Got him)

Meanwhile, in the boroughs, niggas' streets got touched (Uh huh)

Police got snuffed after he got bust

I turn a body to a bag soon as beef pop up (Brr)

Send a hit through a text while you sittin' on your steps (Brr)

That youngin come in runnin' with the grip in his sweats

Black KITH Corona mask, MACs sittin' on the grass (Grass)

Now I’m on tours, no more crack pitchin' on the ave (No)

Sickest in the city (Yeah), got the quickest hitters with me (Got him)

My Cali homie lurkin' with the blicky in his Dickies, motherfucker

Yeah, that leave you split

Wanna put money on it?

Nigga, c-note this

All you niggas know what time it is, I’m G, no Clipse

Reload, bitch, your brains all over the whip

The clock tickin', tick tick, nigga, leave you split

Wanna put money on it?

Nigga, c-note this

All you niggas know what time it is, I’m G, no Clipse

Reload, bitch, your brains all over the whip

The clock tickin', tick tick (Uh)

Forty-two in pre-rolled hits

I’m ridin' dirty, policin' without the sheeps don’t mix

Des' Eagle grips, don’t ego trip, I match designer

Black attire, rapid fire, rest in peace whole cliques

The never scary, more to bury, we bury shit all the time

Need a specialist to examine what’s goin' on in my mind

Lately, your favorite rappers have all been on a decline

I fell back and got better both times, these PCP and coke lines

I’m on my rivals, embarrass 'em with my calm bravado

My alma mater of smackin' a nigga horizontal

The sole survivor, you stuntin', money be gone tomorrow

Pour out a bottle, tire marks spark the Verrazzano

As far as rhymin', I’m a god, don’t pursue the incomparable

Feels like I’m up against the odds, watch me do the impossible

Infatuated with them likes, get you views in the hospital

Soon as you slip up, nigga, bet a blood pool’ll be washin' you

Yeah, that leave you split

Wanna put money on it?

Nigga, c-note this

All you niggas know what time it is, I’m G, no Clipse

Reload, bitch, your brains all over the whip

The clock tickin', tick tick, nigga, leave you split

Wanna put money on it?

Nigga, c-note this

All you niggas know what time it is, I’m G, no Clipse

Reload, bitch, your brains all over the whip

The clock tickin', tick tick

Griselda