Easter Gunday 3 lyrics

[Intro: Keisha Plum & Westside Gunn]
Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death
I will fear no evil, for my AK and Glock 9, they comfort me
Though prepareth the table before me, in the presence of my enemies
He has super S on his feet, so he thought he had an S on his chest with that bulletproof vest
But we coming for your dome piece
Shot to the forehead, give you a third eye
Make your kids cry, baby mama asking why
All bow down to the god of Fly
Grr, ayo
Boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom
Ayo
Griselda
Brr, brr, brr
By Fashion Rebels

[Verse 1: Westside Gunn & Sean Price]
Ayo, I don't leave without my pistol on
Drive-bys, I'm playing X-X-exten-sion
Soon as the box hit the skrt, I'ma get him gone
Shoot up your mama house, your uncle brains on the lawn
Blew your nephew off the tricycle, shots ripple
Like the PSI, Lord, you not official
On the yard, me and Blue DaVinci, shooters with me (Facts)
Went to the halfway house, I took the Uzi with me (Facts)
Skating over weight on the Palace deck, I'm not impressed
Peace to little Shaun, peace to Bernadette (P!)
GxFR, that's the murder set (Doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot)
Everybody got dope, but I serve the best
Everybody taking my sh*t
Shoot the eight three times, I might break my wrist
Took six, came back, now I'm better than ever
Amiri jeans, alligator on the sweater, who better?
I mean, I guess it's Fahim
He still chopping heads off with guillotines, n*gga, please
Ninja stars in the trees, come on, fam
We ain't the same, you ain't never seen a thousand grams
You ain't never shot a n*gga, no Con Air trips
Never been fly, never f*cked a bad b*tch
Lil n*gga, I'm rich
I heard that Dump Legend, sh*t sound like chips
Mask on like Vader, training like al-Qaeda
Mach retired, n*gga turned to a painter
Meanwhile, I'm gettin' paper
Yo, these rap n*ggas weirdos (These rap n*ggas weirdos)
VVSs on my earlobes (VVSs on my earlobes)
sh*t, the creator of the sun
n*ggas tryna fit in, that's a Camouflage Bum
[Break: Westside Gunn]
Yo, you already f*cking know
I wasn't even gon' do this sh*t
I had to, though
But f*ck it, man, shoutout Easter, man
I'm just having fun, I wrote this sh*t in like 5 minutes
I don't waste time on these n*ggas
Smokin' Skittles
I'm not gon' even do this sh*t no more
I don't give a f*ck if n*ggas make some sh*t
Talk some sh*t, tweet some sh*t
I ain't even gon' see it anyway, n*ggas blocked me
But yo, I was just-
I just wanted to have some fun, man
Let n*ggas know why I'm who the f*ck I am, man
FLYGOD
See, like, I still do what I want to
I only drink champagne (Only)
I wear six figures in jewels (Facts)
I got all type of houses (Facts)
I'm 'bout to buy my b*tch some titties
And like, like, life is f*cking beautiful
Pootie getting that Gucci
That Louis, shoutout to Pootie
But, yo, before, Mach was on these sh*ts
sh*t happens
Can I get my painting, Mach?
But it's all about Griselda
See, this a different kind of life
n*ggas really put the work in
n*ggas been in the raids
n*ggas lost our best n*ggas
Rest in peace Machine Gun Black
n*ggas been shot, n*ggas been stabbed
n*ggas been in that hole
n*ggas been locked down, 23 and 1
Free Ike, free Sly
n*ggas been told on
n*ggas done took them trips
I remember one time, n*ggas had me shackled
From- from f*ckin' Buffalo to f*ckin' Youngstown, Ohio
Sat there for a week in shackles
All the way to PA
Shackled, got on Con Air, flew all the way to Oklahoma
Left Oklahoma, shackled, had to fly all the way to Atlanta
See, y'all n*ggas don't know that life
Where you don't eat the meat, so you share for the motherf*cking fruit, n*gga
Y'know?
Get ready for Chris Benoit
AKA Supreme Blientele
Get ready
Classic, the album really called Chris Benoit
Also known as Supreme Blientele, n*gga
Either one
It's gonna be the illest sh*t all year
But you know who else got some of the illest sh*t all year?
[Verse 2: Benny The Butcher]
Ah, let's go
Ski mask, crooked faces, this rap sh*t took us places
My strap get put in faces, that's word to my butcher apron (n*gga)
Around the world, I'm good with gangsters, I got good relations
All it took was patience, now I'm on, so they book us places
Let me catch you frontin', you just wanna be Pop (Let me catch you n*ggas)
You want the buzz, you want the love, but you don't want to get shot
How you don't want what come with it? You just want to be hot
To be Griselda, n*gga, you gotta stand on one of these blocks
I was feedin' 'em, stove on medium, under each pot (What else?)
Rolling reefer up, while I'm speeding off the company lot
Aye, look, West told me chill, but I know where the n*gga live (I know where he at)
Black Sopranos, n*gga, tie you up, right in that little crib
Get the tape, then throw the pillowcase right on your little head
We would search the crib for cake, but know you don't get no bread
Funeral status, G sh*t, I could give 'em passes
My team like, "what's good with the action", we could give 'em caskets
Look, six shooters, eight heaters, six bodies, eight creatures
Play with me, I make you famous quicker than a Drake feature
I be rockin' Off-White, and I be rocking BAPE sneakers (And?)
I mix that with Fendi sh*t like I don't got no taste neither
Hopping out the Radisson got me shopping on Madison
You talking all that fashion sh*t but cop it from the Africans
That don't start none, it won't be none
Y'all know who run the streets, huh? (Griselda)
We gon' see when Tana Talk 3 come
Got my hammer in the trap, I watch the camera like a rerun
Undercover, caught with scanners, throw your hand up when you see one
It's Easter Gunday, I need a runway (Ah)
I let a clip talk, n*ggas think I'm Rick Ross, I be with gunplay (Brrr)
You grind hard, you could reach this one day (One day)
I learned the game young, and knew that I would teach it some day
I'm bool, you know the rules when you play in these streets (What's that?)
You smooth, c*ck the tool, now you playin' for keeps
Don't pray for us, n*gga, make sure you pray for the weak
I bump into a bird, n*gga, I'ma scrape up his feet
I just booked a flight to Cali, I'ma stay for the week
My b*tch comin', while I work, I let her play on the beach
The ways of the streets, I rob just to stay on my feet
I'm at n*ggas, rap n*ggas see this face and they sleep
[Outro: Benny The Butcher]
The Butcher
Griselda, n*gga
You know what it is
Hahaha, let's go