Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Crime Pays, artist - CONWAY THE MACHINE. Date of issue: 02.04.2017
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Crime Pays |
| Switch whips like chicks hate gettin spotted by a fraud |
| Switch my broads like drawers, so my feelings not involved |
| Look- I need 'em fresh, let me iron out my problems |
| And uh- don’t need the stress, why don’t you whine about it tomorrow |
| Dope money, coke money, roll a gun smoke money |
| Break bullets down like bud if we get it in blood |
| I’m with whatever, feed the children |
| Really not with the killin, more about all this this audio drug dealin |
| Look we thug niggas, love women, love winnin' |
| Don’t wanna hear about when was winnin', duhhhhh nigga |
| I got the keys call me DJ Khaled/ |
| And uh- I got the greens, call me MC salad |
| I gotta lotta lettuce, lotta cheddar cheese, lotta cabbage |
| Pourin' diamond dressin over yellow, white, rose gold karats |
| Forgive me lord I’m talkin' like a savage |
| We Barcotic rhyme slangin, name rangin', livin' lash |
| A brink stash, minks drag, payin bills and drink tabs |
| Calculate your moves slow, but you gotta think fast (think fast nigga, |
| matter fact think cash nigga) |
| Boost and brag, post the swag, IG I post & tag |
| Pound key Life is Good, round me, Broke is Bad (true facts nigga, |
| that’s why I think cash nigga) |
| Crime Pays *repeat 4x* |
| Look, all my shooters lurk well (they lurkin' nigga) |
| Mac rangin' like church bells (brrrrrttt) |
| Cocaine ressy on my work scale |
| Keep a strap, fuck who you shot, you could get murked still (can take an L too |
| nigga) |
| Pussy Get your brains blew in the wind |
| Ayo these niggas can’t fuck with me when I’m movin' the pen |
| Move a hundred bags of sour then do it again (hustlin'!) |
| I’m '96 Jordan, I’ma shoot for the win (haaa!) |
| Pack the big gat with the long pipe |
| The jacket is Off-White™ |
| Before rap I actually offed white (talk to 'em) |
| Yeah- that’s facts, I had a hard life |
| I could remember coming home to cut off lights (uh-huh) I even starved nights |
| Got a pack from homie then I ran it up |
| Sellin' fifties in the trap house with the hammer tucked |
| Ain’t leavin' til my plans is up, you trippin' if you thinkin' that my nine |
| don’t spray |
| Who sayin' crime don’t pay? |
| I tell them niggas |
| Crime Pays *repeat 3X* |