Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Silly Rabbitt, artist - CONWAY THE MACHINE. Album song 50 Round Drum, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 22.12.2018
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Vinyl
Song language: English
Silly Rabbitt |
Look, I don’t usually entertain fuckery |
But I don’t know what got this nigga |
Thinkin' he could fuck with me |
The homie told me to murder you in a song |
But that bullshit verse wasn’t worthy of a response |
Nobody never heard of you, am I wrong? |
But I got somethin' that’ll certainly give him surgery in my palm |
Pussy, I’ll do you dirty front of your mom |
In front of them same dirty niggas that’s all |
In your video, tell them niggas, watch, get ready |
I kill 'em in a few minutes, get your watches ready |
You not hot, if you was you would’ve popped already |
Wig shot, SIG pop 'til it drop spaghetti |
Your top confetti, man why I even got this petty? |
'Cause I kill people for fun, I’m Ox in Belly |
To be the best you gotta beat the best, you said it yourself |
So basically, you admittin' I was better yourself |
So I ain’t even gotta do it, shit, you deaded yourself |
Put your neck in the guillotine and be headed yourself |
Fuck rap, read a book or somethin', better yourself |
Diss me and you pay homage, you just credit yourself |
Said he wanted to spar, so I’m settlin' it quick |
I don’t think this nigga know how deadly it could get |
I ain’t talkin' 'bout a chain or the bezel on my wrist |
He wanted bars, I’ma show him that there’s levels to this shit |
You better do your research |
'Fore niggas see you in kings city in front of rest in peace t-shirt |
Nigga this the S.E. |
Gang, you know how we work |
Chopper go off, niggas run, check how his feet work |
This is chess, not checkers, nigga it’s my move |
But how could I lose? |
Been killin' niggas since high school |
Mentionin' my name that ain’t a wise move |
'Cause in the booth, I’m a tsunami and a typhoon |
Puttin' words together, somethin' that I’m better at |
He wanna get in the ring with me, I Mayweather that |
You should’ve picked you another lane instead of rap |
Wish it was you that got killed instead of Black |
Nigga, I’m the machine, I tried to tell him that |
Smack with him the back of the shotgun, his head’ll crack |
You ain’t know this the shit that I like doin' |
I like chewin' niggas, the shit that I write ruin |
A nigga career, I’m right here in my white Ewings |
And you’ll never get you a ring, you like Ewing |
I seen your video, talkin all that faggot shit |
Word to West Philly, I’ll give this nigga the (?) clip |
Chopper make a nigga disappear, that’s the magic stick |
I’ll snatch the rabbit out his hat like a magic trick |
For real homie, you ain’t ready for how bad it get |
I get money and fuck bitches, don’t do the battle shit |
I hang with the savages that aim at your cabbages |
And rain (?) somethin' (?), but’ll splatter shit |
You ain’t in my lane, you a lame and you average |
Chopper aim at you and them lames that you rappin' with |
Chase money, I don’t know what you boys do |
'Til in my driveway it’s new toys, WOOO, two toys blue |
You are not a thug, you a schoolboy duke |
In the club, I do the buckets like ScHoolboy Q, nigga |
I’m talkin' bottles after bottles, nigga |
All I got for you is these hollows, nigga |
And lately I been travelin', (?) nigga |
In that foreign big boy (?) |
I got shot, nigga (?) and my (?) done |
I’m RG3 of the shit, ready for week one |
If you don’t got a gun, you better keep one |
Told you I’ma finish you nigga before the week done |
The Machine, nigga, that’s it, that’s all |