| READYMADE caskets, this work so good, get the elastic
|
| Hid the AK behind the masjid
|
| Who made the sun shine? |
| (Who made the sun shine? You know what I’m sayin')
|
| Next thing you know, we dip from one time (Ah)
|
| Real street nigga shit
|
| Yo, uh
|
| Track and field, runnin' packs, I’m still subtractin' real numbers
|
| I took a loss and just had to build from it, y’all broke the code
|
| Threw dirt on gang when y’all spoke to Hov, that was reckless
|
| That’s expected, VS cuts on my wrist big enough to catch infections
|
| This Heckler on me protect the homies, Boldy and Westside
|
| Treated my forty just like my only connect
|
| Who said it was simple? |
| Them prisons strengthened my mental
|
| I broke the lead on the paper from writin' letters in pencil
|
| This a process, I’m fresh, I just moved out the projects
|
| Million dollar deals and still feel like I ain’t hot yet
|
| Biggie Smalls in a Coogi, Al Green in a mock neck
|
| Russel Simmons my mindset, I’m old Hov with a Pyrex
|
| What’s the money worth when my mother hurt, brother layin' under dirt?
|
| We can forgive you, but you get punished first
|
| Dope on a paper plate, thinkin', «Why let the paper wait?»
|
| I ran around the world for it just like The Amazing Race
|
| The money counter singin' to me, sound like «Amazing Grace»
|
| Cooked a brick of big at a time, I was eight for eight
|
| The Butcher, nigga
|
| Last three packs in the bundle, I had to swallow that (Hold the tops)
|
| Balls of smack pumpin' while I’m crumblin' the loudest thrax (Good kush)
|
| Cone racks, turned the plug around at the Mountain Jack’s (Still more)
|
| Niggas who thought I was finished hate to see me bouncin' back (It's on)
|
| Touched a honeybun, tryna trap me up a thousand stacks (A big, big dog)
|
| Shout out to Butch and Gunn, my shooter don’t know how to rap (Brr)
|
| Never filed a tax, had to run with that powder pack (Hyena)
|
| Thumbs still numb from packin' up, foldin' lotto packs (Up in plastic)
|
| I grew up on a block with scurvy niggas, topsy-turvy (All hitters)
|
| Totin' Glocks with thirties in 'em, sellin' rocks and thirties (Boxes)
|
| Oxycontin, Percocet, I was poppin' yerkies (Tens)
|
| Blowin' on the way to see my PO, I was droppin' dirties (Remix)
|
| Re-rockin' birdies in the trap, half block of turkey (White meat)
|
| The work come in a silver pack like a chocolate Hershey (What else?)
|
| Need the pill scripts and them bows, in total (Moonrock)
|
| Real nigga, still posted on the service drive with purses (Four-one)
|
| Where we at? |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Buffs vs. Wires , by - Westside Gunn. Song from the album Flygod Is An Awesome God 2, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп