Spurs 3 lyrics

[Intro: Conway the Machine]
Doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot (Griselda), look

[Verse 1: Conway the Machine & Westside Gunn]
Detectives combin' through the hood lookin’ for a corpse
Draco hittin', I don't think your body can endure the force (Doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot)
I whip the fish up with a f*ckin’ hanger or a fork (Whip up)
Told that b*tch 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)
Huh, cop pulled me over in my imported Porsche
He said, "This car must be a hundred K", I said, "You forty short" (I said you short)
My n*gga droppin' bodies for the sport
Violators got tragedy written all over it like The War Report
Most of you rap n*ggas, I pistol whip you or extort
I'm the Machine, I f*ck b*tches you can't afford to court
Y'all clout chasin’, every verse, you name droppin’
Taggin' n*ggas in your post, hopin’ that they comment back and at you in it
I don't wanna rap, don't wanna dap you n*ggas
I honestly don't give no f*cks about bein’ friends with a rapper n*gga (Not at all)
Griselda, b*tch, we the inspiration (Huh)
You can see me and Gunn influencin' all the music these n*ggas makin'
Ask B Dot and Elliot, they will tell you yes (Go and ask 'em, n*gga)
Ask my n*gga 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 b*tches keep sayin' I'm gorgeous (What up, baby?)
I got the flooded AP, my jeweler 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 b*tch suck this di*k until she say she exhausted (I ain't say you finished)
Keep a shooter with me that don't mind takin' the charge
Basically, May Street made me this heartless (Boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom)
Machine, b*tch (Ayo)
[Verse 2: Westside Gunn & BENNY THE BUTCHER]
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 n*gga touch the TV gettin' stabbed, word to Michael, pick one (Ah)
Tyson, Jordan, Jackson, MAC-10 (Brr, brr, brr)
Droppin' n*ggas broad daylight (Brr, droppin' n*ggas broad daylight)
Ayo, you know I'm the goat (Ah)
Hit at least five n*ggas, wash the MAC with the soap (Brr, brr)
I ain't never goin' back, free Cease, free Soaks (Free my n*ggas)
Anybody you see out there, just shoot, let 'em know (Doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot)
My side b*tch bought me a TEC-9 with a bolt (Ah)
Tucked it in the Chrome Heart in case a n*gga want war (In case a n*gga want war)
I took the tablets down to 'Bama, had the best for the low (Yeah, ah)
Pyer Moss 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)

[Verse 3: BENNY THE BUTCHER]
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 vestes piled 'round the exits (Remember that)
Sawed-off shotgun, double barrel, I filed it down symmetric, yeah (n*gga, ah)
I snap a finger, Scram'll clap the nina (Clap the nina)
You lost your b*tch, I haven't seen her, the cash I bring in attractin' singers (Hahahaha)
A bag of heaters in the back of Bimmers (Skrrt)
Cocaine, thick gold chain like DMC in them black Adidas
I remember when it was dirt cheap (Uh-huh)
I don't know what you gon' name this, but it's soundin' like "Spurs 3" (Sound 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 n*ggas' names, pillow talkin', playin' little 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 b*tches, first we gon' f*ck 'em, then get on stage (Ah)
Who knew? I up and married the game, no, ain't get engaged (Uh-uh)
On the prison yard next to a jack like a ten of spades (n*gga)
Griselda, we applyin' the pressure into the game (Uh-huh)
These rap n*ggas talk greasy on tracks and then explain, pus*y