Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Alpaca, artist - CONWAY THE MACHINE. Album song Blakk Tape, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 26.03.2018
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Vinyl
Song language: English
Alpaca |
I know some niggas that been behind the wall their entire life |
Never been to Shanghai, but they was moving China white |
Razor in palm, I give a nigga cheek a giant slice |
Across his face, just for saying shit that I ain’t like |
Me and these niggas don’t rhyme alike, tryna battle? |
You better off tryna fight Iron mike |
In 89 when he was in his prime, nigga I ain’t like |
These other rap niggas, who you tryna |
Diamonds dancing that means they’re shining bright |
Yikes, might hurt your eyes like you’re staring in a shining light |
I hit the vagina twice, it was kinda tight |
I’m getting pussy like Frankie on a line of white |
You think you on my level, find a knife |
And cut the bullshit nigga |
You see the way I brutalize the mic, right |
This for niggas in prison flying kites |
Knew how to shoot a gun 'fore they knew how to ride a bike |
You know what’s up nigga |
You know where to find me at pull-up nigga |
You know you can’t fuck with us |
Even your baby mama know you just a fuck nigga |
Gelato in my Dutch nigga |
Henny XO in my cup nigga |
You know what’s up nigga |
You know where to find me at pull-up nigga |
Let them niggas tell it them niggas is working |
When I see them niggas in person them niggas is hurting |
I’m drinking Henny XO getting twisted with Birkin |
Got the chopper in the window barrel stick through the curtains |
Got the dope in a time box, no it isn’t detergent |
Always use the same chef cause he be whipping it perfect |
You think he a real nigga, but he really a serpent |
Two to the back of the head, leave him finished for certain |
My nigga got fifteen, he was hustling |
I gave these niggas a lane, word to my brother Saddam |
These niggas do big things when they fucking with Con |
Like James Jones got six rings fucking with 'Bron |
I put out classics, don’t like rappers, I don’t dap 'em |
I’ll tax 'em, for a feature, to out-rap 'em |
On each song, he speak wrong, then I’ll slap him |
like Frank Lucas with blood on his Alpaca, motherfucker |
You know what’s up nigga |
You know where to find me at pull-up nigga |
You know you can’t fuck with us |
Even your baby mama know you just a fuck nigga |
Gelato in my Dutch nigga |
Henny XO in my cup nigga |
You know what’s up nigga |
You know where to find me at pull-up nigga |