| Conductor, Conductor, Conductor
|
| Ayo
|
| Flygod
|
| Ayo, rockin' all Sacai in the 911 soft-top (Skrrt)
|
| Hopped out, big drum on it, had to sort 'em out (Brr, brr)
|
| Peace, my name’s West, but I’m from the East (Ah)
|
| Ayo, the only nigga that got five visions with fire vision
|
| Open your eyes, listen, this our time, Christie’s and Fly
|
| Waitin' for fly bitches, sippin' pain in the rain
|
| Never got wet, this for my niggas that’s locked in the cage
|
| Brushin' they waves with a chip bag, drive it like Six Flags (Skrrt)
|
| Clothes from Fifth Ave, broke it, I got rich fast
|
| How you figure you niggas iller? |
| You illin', millin', and shillin'
|
| Icon, what a wonderful feeling, put holes in your building (Boom, boom, boom,
|
| boom, boom, boom)
|
| Allah willin', I be touchin' big bags (Ah)
|
| Goyard leashes on all-red Saint Bernards
|
| Saint Laurents, water whip the coke with the Avian
|
| They be on bullshit, I be on real time
|
| I be out in France with Clovis sippin' real wine
|
| Toast to my real niggas that’s sellin' dope still (Ah)
|
| I be sippin' real wine, toast to my niggas (Brr)
|
| Toast to my niggas in the field, s— (Brr)
|
| Mm-mm-mm, na-na and red wine
|
| Toast to my niggas in the field, sellin' dope, yeah
|
| To my niggas still in field, sellin' dope (Ah)
|
| My middle knuckle is bigger than all my knuckles on this hand right here, bruh
|
| You ain’t got a scratch on your middle knuckle
|
| You know what I mean? |
| You ain’t been through nothin'
|
| You never— Ain’t— You never been in the— In the crib
|
| With welfare cheese and fried bologna and all that stuff like that for dinner
|
| at nighttime, man
|
| Don’t come at me with that lil' punk ass shit |