Текст песни Blam, Blam, Blam (feat. Conway & BENNY the BUTCHER) - Styles P
Yeah
L-O-X
I
got
'em
Machine,
baby
Look
Word
to
the
coke
that
in
my
shooter
nose
(Sniff)
Beluga
2.0s
in
the
coupe
I
drove
On
the
stoop
in
the
cold
movin'
stupid
O's
Whip
the
fish
before
it
even
dried,
deuce
was
sold
Take
a
half,
produce
a
whole
when
I
use
the
stove
Went
from
trappin'
in
Pelle
jackets
to
rockin'
Gucci
clothes
That's
why
when
you
see
me
I'm
with
a
group
of
hoes
Bad
bitches
that
look
like
Carucci,
I'm
used
to
those
Bal
Harbor
shoppin',
my
pockets
do
be
swole
Cuban's
gold
Put
my
knife
in
your
body,
remove
your
soul
Use
your
homie
shirt
to
wipe
my
knife
off
His
blood
splattered
on
my
Kev
Montclair,
I
stabbed
him
twice
more
The
fuck
I'm
takin'
your
advice
for?
When
they
cut
mama
lights
off,
I
started
sellin'
white
soft
It's
ironic
the
nigga
they
tried
to
write
off
was
takin'
the
league
by
storm,
I'm
kinda
like
Mars
Wake
up
in
the
mornin'
to
a
blunted
sour
Then
I'm
up
in
blossom,
I'm
makin'
money
shower
You
got
money
and
respect,
then
you
got
fuckin'
power
I'm
rich
but
I
clap
a
nigga
over
a
hundred
dollars
Where
I'm
from,
you
keep
the
hammer
tucked
Niggas
is
foul,
fuck
around
and
get
your
nana
bucked
Grimy
niggas'll
stick
Santa
though
Kill
Rudolph,
then
eat
'em,
you
couldn't
manage
us
Why
you
think
niggas
is
comatose?
Homie
gave
the
other
homie
mama
bag,
now
he
got
mad
Gotta
kill
'em
with
the
mag
'cause
she
overdosed
If
I
gotta
box,
it's
the
52
or
the
rope-a-dope
Stuntin'
in
the
drop
Plottin'
on
the
lot
I
could
build
on
Cross
me
I'ma
rock
a
nigga
knot
I
ain't
thinkin'
like
your
average
nigga
I
got
carats
off
of
carrots
sellin'
juice
Peaceful
yet
a
savage
nigga
You
could
lie
about
Cartel
ties
Well
I'm
the
type
of
guy
to
leave
the
Cartel
tired
Get
the
match
and
the
gas,
watch
the
Cartel
dive
I'll
catch
'em
slippin'
in
the
gym
and
let
a
barbell
fly
Break
his
face
with
a
plate
like
the
ghost
of
Charlie
Murphy
But
I'm
the
real
ghost,
you
ain't
no
Charlie
Murphy
Not
in
the
comedic
way
I'm
the
one
who
make
Paul
and
Peter
pay
9 millimeter
spray
What
you
know
about
the
crack
bein'
slow
cause
the
grams
bad?
But
the
plug
want
his
dough
so
you
pay
for
your
man
half
(I'll
take
care
of
that)
.44
Bulldog
makin'
your
pants
sag
I
swim
the
swamp
with
a
gator,
I
made
it
a
handbag
They
tell
me
I'm
how
hope
look
Them
pots
had
to
slow
cook
Stack
of
paper
on
my
kitchen
table
look
like
notebooks
Two
shooters
with
you?
We
know
them
niggas,
they
both
puss
Roll
through
and
I
let
this
toast
cook
like
Rosewood
Black
Soprano
family,
I
probably
should
make
the
movie
Pray
over
a
brick
while
I'm
slidin'
a
razor
through
'em
Back
to
back
trips
now
I
got
my
bitch
draped
in
Louie
I'm
known
for
rock
and
a
guitar
like
David
Bowie
Yeah,
I
went
against
the
FBI
and
crooked
judges
When
rappers
start
losin'
limbs
you
know
the
Butcher
comin'
Y'all
still
gassed
off
my
rookie
numbers
This
the
kid
that's
from
a
block
that
did
Westside
Gunn
hoodie
numbers
Uh,
I
grew
to
be
a
hustler
but
I
ran
with
thieves
(But
I
ran
with
thieves)
You
steal
from
the
gang
i
bet
your
hands'll
bleed
(I
bet
your
hands'll
bleed)
I
met
in
a
plug
in
the
feds
who
used
to
hand
me
ki's
We
was
like
Donovan
McNabb
and
Andy
Reid
Take
me
to
your
trap,
I
really
outta
draft
the
plate
I
fuck
around
and
put
my
siganture
on
a
bag
of
H
Y'all
niggas
usin'
12
12's
and
call
it
stackin'
cake
When
my
niggas
bag
up,
we
usin'
garbage
bags
and
tape
Let's
go,
agh
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