Kostas
Conway the Machine, Westside Gunn, Benny the Butcher
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(Tay Keith, f*ck these niggas up) (Griselda) Yo, top of the AM, I'm cookin' a batch you can rap and then thinkin' 'bout traffickin' There's blood on the money, we savagin' You can tell by the driver we havin' it, yeah We took it easy, so don't press your luck When I feel like squeezin', my blood pressure up I took two hoes on a date, doubled up Before we go eat, they just wanna get fucked Pyrex man, yeah, you know my handle Play with them pots, 'cause Butch don't gamble But I'm in Vegas with least bought a hundred And all blue strips, that's only two handfuls Griselda Blanco meets the Sopranos I had to season that chicken like Dan-O's Shit we don't speak on, all you need to know is When we put our cleats on, opps get trampled I got your bitch on a hit list, nigga She'll leave you for a rich, rich nigga Ten foreigns deep at the Quik Trip, nigga I pray for kilos on Christmas, nigga I drive this bitch like I got her for nothin' She a Scorpio, a Cancer, she fuckin' Mini Drac' with the banana, I'm thuggin' Cartier glasses with the pants, I'm buggin' Pyrex, man, yeah, you know my handle Play with them pots, 'cause Butch don't gamble But I'm in Vegas with least bought a hundred And all blue strips, that's only two handfuls I got your bitch on a hit list, nigga She'll leave you for a rich, rich nigga (she on a hit list, nigga) Ten forints deep at the Quik Trip, nigga (at the quick trip, nigga) I pray for kilos on Christmas, nigga Butcher Ayo, ayo, I'm the same nigga with the coke and pops Ayo, ayo, Gucci strap, back with the polka dots Gucci MLB jersey, who you be? I be worthy Sold them bricks around noon, robbed them back 'bout 2:30 D&G stove, thriller on froze Yeah, I got that rose plain, hearts on cones Crosses on the Chrome, Amiris with the bones Red bottom Chelseas, Indiana Jones Yeah, I got your bitch fuckin' Prezi at the low Bitch never had shit, why she take the road? Pull over, well done, bones filet, well done Shoot a shot and ten more times, left that nigga well done How you niggas kingpins, you ain't never sell nothin' Only tellers tell for, if they pullers tell none Fuckin' like a porn star, legend on the rack, y'all Creases on the dance floor, you ain't been to jail once You know what it is, shit don't stop, nigga I'm just leavin' the hospital, gettin' my surgery Fuckin' anesthesia, ain't even fully wore off yet Let's do it again, look, let's go May Street, you know where my crew from No name niggas, where is you from? We ain't with the talk, gotta do somethin' Fourth and long, we gone, we don't do punts Buddy Hield, the bro just wanna shoot something Couple mill in hunnids, it's the blue ones Crash the Benz, f*ck it, buy a new one Cut a bitch off and buy a new one, ha Yeah Lil' red bitch, I call her Fruit Punch Red Raleigh, shit from out of DuPont No Bua Wallace when I do lines (we eating, nigga) When you do the label, watch the fruit come I don't really like to go to parties But this gon' cost you fifty if I do come Yeah I fraternize with feathers and parolees Twins stay with me, that's the brodie Any pressure, he gon' up his polie (boom, boom) Mask on his face like a goalie Niggas hatin', f*ck them, die slowly Seen them niggas start to get on snake shit That's when they see me turn to Kobe (black mamba, yeah) Like, who these rap niggas playin' with? I'm a silverback with banana clips I'ma peel a cap when I'm sprayin' shit (brr) Look Brought that feeling back is what they sayin', shit The real is back for a million flat, my last playin' shit Smokin' out a Ziploc that probably weigh as much as Westside bracelet Call me SlamFace Killah, grimy rap shit, they sayin' I'm the face of it Got a bitch out the hood I showed her how to butterfly the filet and shit (like this) Lobster tail with the black truffle, lots of mail in that black duffel Mm-hmm I'm the gladiator, I'm the Black Russell Sound the sir on the Mack muzzle Touch one of mine's, that's trouble I got rich as a bitch and did it my way These niggas wanna act puzzled You could've made it out of that struggle But you'd rather hate than you lack hustle Bro, damn, we be on go mode Jumpin' with the sticks, no pogo (woo) Ice D.W., logo, try to run down, that's a no-no Every time I post though, yo-ho Keep double-tappin' my photo (ha) Got this rap game in the chokehold Machine, bitch, I'm a new prototype Tell everybody, I'll tell everybody in the city you my man Everybody (yes), everybody (yes sir) Thank y'all for the whistle name, man Thank y'all for the record, the Sly Green record, man, it's real nice, man And Westside, man, all I got is positive, constructive things to say Can't nobody say nothin' to you, about me, about yo dude Them dudes don't know me like you know me, Westside You can do whatever you wanna do with my name You, Benny, and your man Conway do anything y'all wanna do with my name, man You my man, man (of course) You a personal friend of mine (of course) So you ain't gotta listen to what nobody else got to say (yes sir) You my man, man, come on Man, Westside, you my man, man You know I love you, bro You my man, come on, man You know I love you, bro I know that And look, man, I'm proud of y'all, man I seen you on BET, man When y'all done a thing on DMX Oh, you got to see it?
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Written by: Alvin Worthy, Demond Price, Jeremie Pennick
Lyrics © EMPIRE PUBLISHING
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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"Kostas Lyrics." Lyrics.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 28 May 2024. <https://www.lyrics.com/lyric-lf/13041258/Westside+Gunn/Kostas>.
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