FUBU - Royce 5'9, CONWAY THE MACHINE

I am that nigga, it’s obvious

These niggas broke, on their pickpocket, watching us

They see the watch and this jewelry we rocking

Get sick to their stomach, now they try to plot on us

They know this extendo we got on us

Can’t name a time when it’s not on us

Hope they try robbing us

So they can go back and tell niggas about all these bullets they got from us

I let that blocker on low, I put that pot on the stove, yeah

Now these CDs only product I sold

Fans in Berlin going out of control, yeah

I fuck a lot of new hoes

Penthouse on top of the Lowes, Versace my robe

What’s in my pocket?

A knot I can’t fold

Make sure my Gelato is rolled

Uh, I am on a whole another level than you, uh

My grandma used to say, «Boy, you got the devil in you»

Fuck around, get some metal in you

My name ring bells, I could sell out whatever venue

For us, by us

For us, by us

For us, by us

For us, by us

(For you) By us

(For you) By us

(For you) By us

I’m tired of hearing about what all these rappers’ll do

First of all, none of y’all can last in the booth

I don’t know what’s faster, your wounds turning black or to blue

The media, the slap of the shoe

Step to a nigga just to step on a nigga

Sounds easier to me than counting backwards from two

Bring the hood peace, you expect it by the Benzes

Shell catch an iron, you ain’t pressured by forensics

Half you niggas rhyming transgenic

You say they gotta question how you meant it

I transcend, forever monumented

Not even Netflix could document it

My son got autism from injection by syringes

These nerds ain’t warriors, we heard the same story and

You niggas blowing whistles at Hurricane Dorian

Blowing missiles back to the word of vainglorious

You sissy

Nigga, this is for us, by us

Why you put yours up?

I put up my cup

Survivors of systems meant to divide us

You only can afford what you could buy five of

You a fool in a war with the faint of hearts

I’ll let the two encores take your brain apart

I’m at the Louvre on the floor by the hanging art

I’m putting numbers on the board like a game of darts

Product of every single blood freckled Timberland

Buy up every building in the projects to contemporary art deco every tenement

My consigliere is marked echo every sentiment

Cop a hundred rides, park 'em all in one garage

Money on my mind like Rocky thunder thighs

Everybody, everybody friends like they from Milan

'Til they in a hole in a line like the number nine

Long hours of perfecting this, 9−7 shit

Spitting seeds left of shells of pistachios on the keys of the Casios,

it’s the evidence

Bearing my soul, DiCaprio from The Revenant

Phantom looking haunted like a hayride

Camera on the trunk like the one from my prayers

Amethyst a gun, cummerbund child, they lied

Clamp a chick in front, one of one I say I

And you know how I do

Put the beef behind me to put your soul behind you like De La

Twin white Maybachs

Steering wheel wood when I’m floating through the hood like sailors

Couldn’t be cut like me if you had ten tailors

Put the wifey in a black bent Bentayga

Judge can’t exonerate, violate

Got a mansion by the lake, got a maid, Consuela

I was fly even when I was a damn lie

I was flying standby 'cause of how I expand mics

Triple threat, bitch, I make the track and write

The judge can’t give me life, bitch, I am life

You a algorithm

You niggas everything the culture isn’t

I don’t coach the visit

I don’t get into the social digits

I just smoke distribute

Microorganism live in my colloquialisms