paroles de chanson Spurs 3 (feat. Benny The Butcher & Westside Gunn) - Westside Gunn , Conway the Machine , Benny The Butcher

Doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot
Doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot (Griselda)

Look, detectives combin′ through the hood lookin' for a corpse
Draco hittin′, I don't think your body can endure the force (Doot, doot, doot)
I whip the fish up with a fuckin' hanger or a fork (whip up)
Told that bitch go ahead
Sniff what you want, it′s plenty more to snort (sniff)
I had an outstandin′ warrant for a short
Turned myself in rockin' Louis and all
My jewelry, I wore to court (hahahaha)

Cop pulled me over in my imported Porsche
She said, "This car must be a hundred-K"
I said, "You 40 short" (I said you short)
My nigga droppin′ bodies for the sport
Violate us, got tragedy written all over it like the war report (ha)
Most of you rap niggas, I pistol whip you or extort
I'm the Machine, I fuck bitches you can′t afford to court

Y'all clout chasin′, every verse, you name droppin'
Taggin' niggas in your post
Hopin′ that they comment back and at you in it
I don′t wanna rap, don't wanna dap you niggas
I honestly don′t give no fucks about
Bein' friends with a rapper nigga (not at all)
Griselda, bitch, we the inspiration (huh)
You can see me and Gunn influencin′ all the music these niggas makin'

Ask B Dot and Elliot, they will tell you yes (go and ask ′em, nigga)
Ask my nigga Mal and Joe Budden, they can tell you best (uh huh)
Ask the homie Wayno and 'em, they'll confess
Lotta albums are suddenly startin′
To feel a lil′ more Griselda-esque (ha)
Talk to Ebro, ask Sway in the Morning
About the impact of this movement, sure they'll say it′s enormous

'Member I used to sell the yay with the AK on the corner (huh)
Now reality TV bitches keep sayin′ I'm gorgeous (what up, baby?)
I got the flooded AP, my jeweller sayin′ it's flawless
That's probably cap
But what he askin′, I′ma pay it regardless (hahahaha)
Every other day, it's menages, racin′ garages
Made that bitch suck this dick until she
Say she exhausted (I didn't say you finished)
Keep a shooter with me that don′t mind takin' the charges
Basically, May Street made me this
Heartless (Boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom)
Machine, bitch

Ayo, don′t ever try to play me
(Don't ever try to play me, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom)
You know what time it is, baguette AP (ah)
I go to sleep with the MAC (brr), wake up
Brush my teeth with the MAC (brr, brr, brr, brr)
Ayo, Ferragamo goggles, in the day room eatin' nachos
First nigga touch the TV gettin′ stabbed
Word to Michael, pick one (ah)
Tyson, Jordan, Jackson, MAC-10 (brr, brr, brr)
Droppin′ niggas broad day like (brr, droppin' niggas broad day like)

Ayo, you know I′m the GOAT (ah)
Hit at least five niggas, wash the MAC with the soap (brr, brr)
I ain't never goin′ back, free Cease, free Soaks (free my niggas)
Anybody you see out there, just shoot, let 'em know
(Doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot)
My side bitch bought me a TEC-9 with a boat (ah)
Tucked it in the Chrome Heart in case a nigga want war
I took the tablets down to ′Bama, had the best for the low (yeah, ah)
Bianmars, snow boots on with no snow (yeah, uh)
Four-four long, we on, he gotta go, he gotta go
(Yeah, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom)

Yo, for pots with powder 'round the edges
This the grind that I perfected (uh huh)
I had to dodge a lot of questions from crooked homicide detectives
In a raid, white boys with vest-es, powder 'round the exits (remember that)
Sawed-off shotgun, double barrel, I filed it down symmetric (nigga, uh)

Yeah, I snap a finger, scram clap the nina (clap the nina)
You lost your bitch, I haven′t seen her
The cash I bring in attractin′ singers (hahahaha)
A bag of heaters in the back of Bimmers (skrrt)
Cocaine, there go Chain like DMC in them black Adidas
I remember when it was dirt cheap (uh-uh)
I don't know what you gon′ name this, but it's soundin′ like "Spurs 3"
I earned keep, now everybody tryna get a verse free (damn)
Jewels like we do Travis Scott numbers the first week, keep up

I don't mention y′all niggas' names
Pillow talkin', playin′ lil′ games (I don't do that)
This a man′s world, you at your best when you middle aged (a man's world)
Streets waitin′, if I don't drop, all the hustlers gon′ get enraged (they waitin')
Room full of bitches, first we gon' fuck ′em, then get on stage (ah)
Who knew, I up and married the game (yo), ain′t get engaged (uh-uh)
On the prison yard, next to a jack like a ten of spades (nigga)
Griselda, we applyin' the pressure into the game (uh huh)
These rap niggas talk greasy on tracks and then explain, pussy