490 (feat. Conway the Machine)

Backwoods and blue swift
Takeout from Ruth's Chris
We discussing new chips
Picking our chops with toothpicks
Sitting in this Martell penthouse my view sick
Til im in that roofless
Like DJ Khaled with chewsticks
The ones chef dread be on when brown stew mix
They say a lot about me, I'll rock it when shoe fits
Just know you'll end up in box, just like my new kicks
My East Atlanta niggas pop choppers i pray ya suit fit
I get money fuck hoes hella proper play for blue strips
Del Lago throwing back bottles you see the crew lit
We out here like born God jigga bitch who you with
Picking suckers off like eanie, minie, moe
They like to say the sun is shady im with the grimey of them most
In a Wraith in the 90 and we gliding down the coast
Now of days its hard to find me God aligned me with the goat
See its all in God's timing you had patients you would know
While the Wraith reclining yo machine let it blow...

Look... I took a lost then i got it back
Got a rack
Went and got a pack
Flipped it twice, went to holler back
At my plug he through four and half thats a lot of crack
Im just trying too show you niggas how I got it popping back
When I was young
Had to pop my gun
I am not the one
Got it out the slums
Told you niggas, watch what I become
How could I be done
Reject 2 was like The Chronic 1
Drop Goat was like Chronic 2001
Top five when I jot a drum
I hope you pussy niggas got a gun
Im Big L mixed with a lot of Pun
Jumped on the 90 came to the roc just to rock with Sun
Bitches like Con where you get the Gucci goulashes from?
We toasted with a glass of Remy Martin
Any artist can get few out the semi cartridge
Im getting legal money still be feeling awkward
Cause the street shit I'm still involved with...