| Ayy, yo, let’s hit an island, gave the MAC to the pilot
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| Stepping on the coke SB’s, Nicky diamonds
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| You couldn’t walk a mile in, put the barrel on his eyelid
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| You fuck niggas can’t rhyme here, no timeshare
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| The new king of New York, I be your highness
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| So many fake niggas, I can’t tell the difference
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| Broad day, bullets back and forth like table tennis
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| My main shooter yayo sniffing
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| Hundred thou' on his books, he lost weight in prison
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| He came home just to lay on niggas (Ah)
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| They fucking with us, how you figure, nigga?
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| Caught him coming from the shower, had to rip him
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| Praise both or it’s sacrilegious
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| Mathematicians, money machines broke
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| Fiends overdosing over dishes
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| Don’t owe us or get your mom smoked
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| Power drive them off the fourth rope, that nigga spine broke
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| Lord learn your lessons
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| Bulletproof beneath the Heron Preston, airhole TEC’s
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| Hopping out the bushes when you least expect it
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| My nigga surfin' on the Wraith, shootin' out the roof
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| Mister hit his baby moms, bullet hit her coupe
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| Fiend locked up in the bathroom tryna shoot
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| Nigga fell and hit the sink, knocked out your tooth
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| Ayy yo, MAC interstellar, a gauge storms and cooked the brick
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| Lagerfeld umbrella, my bagger got a nasal drip
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| Hazel 6 picked me out the lineup 'cause I had the fish
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| Package flip, peace to Tio, that nigga active Crip, got a grip
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| Blew his brains out, now he back to licks, half the shit, pussy
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| That’s why I keep the rubber grip
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| Undercover parker, who could fuck with this? |
| Illustrious
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| Somebody hand me the plate, you’re sniffin' dust and shit
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| Double pack stuffed with Bics, match the wrap, parker
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| Coupe 300, meet the bodybag, hustler
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| Make sure the work clean, talkin' Pinesol
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| Rocking all this giant candy like the lights off
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| Double pack stuffed with Bics, match the wrap, parker
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| Coupe 300, meet the bodybag, hustler
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| Make sure the work clean, talkin' Pinesol
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| Rocking all this giant candy like the lights off
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| Ayy yo, my nigga surfin' on the Wraith, shootin' out the roof
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| Mister hit his baby moms, bullet hit her coupe
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| Fiend locked up in the bathroom tryna shoot
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| This nigga fell and hit the sink, knocked out his tooth |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Bautista , by - Westside Gunn. Song from the album Flygod Is An Awesome God, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп