Conway The Machine Coke On The Mirror Lyrics
Coke On The Mirror by Conway The Machine
[Intro]
Griselda, by Fashion Rebels
[Verse 1: Westside Gunn & Conway]
Loaded MAC hangin' from the chandelier
Nigga told on his people, he couldn't stand them years
Black got 30 for a big 8
Real stand up nigga, spit in a pig's face
Audi R8 with the top missin'
Air Max, Scott Pippens, I was pot whippin'
Show (?) next to gold pots
Me, West and Benny, we the old LOX
Show me where the money at?
Shotgun pellets where ya stomach at
Left his brains on the countertop
Uhh, flew to Cali for the sour crop
Bugali pullover reek of fishscale
SE gang, you know the clique well
Shit fuck up, they got El Chapo
Uhh, bricks of boy comin' from Morocco
Mix the dope with the yola pack
Yeah, ridin' through ya hood with the loaded MAC
KG9's with the red beam
Lock you in the scope, shootin' from the mezzanine
We the hardest in New York state
So much work made the Pyrex break
Ha, bodies on the MAC 90
Bal harbour where you might find me
In the kitchen with the strap close
Mix the milk with the oils for the lactose
Giuseppe's with the gold bars, stars
Gettin' bales off the fuckin boat
[Interlude]
When I start to count, we're going to start it right here
Make sure I'm all the way dead
I'm going to come back and kill my bitch
[Verse 2: Westside Gunn]
Handlin' pots
Hand to hand, multi-colored tops
Scram and a yacht, dismantle ya block
The Van Gogh hang over cots
Range Rover kickin' it with Lenox
Rose herringbones and Benz drops
Kingpins with ink pens
Used to rock tans creased up with the wheat Timbs
Any rap nigga can get it
Rhyme superior, the plug had the coke on the mirror
Sniffin' coke out of blue money
On the corner gettin' Jew money
0's flippin, prolific
Rose sippin', Rolls whippin'
.44 to your forehead, lift it
[Verse 3: Conway]
Flow sickest, so gifted
Bitches blow kisses, ocho for those slippers
The dope pictures
The .44 toast grippers
Pull up with a shooter, "there go the nigga, now don't miss him"
(Lock and load)
Young boy, all he wanna do is shoot
Hidin' bodies in the van though like Chris and Snoop (hahaha)
.40 to your face get ya nose wiped
SE gang nigga, that's for life, yeah
Griselda, by Fashion Rebels
[Verse 1: Westside Gunn & Conway]
Loaded MAC hangin' from the chandelier
Nigga told on his people, he couldn't stand them years
Black got 30 for a big 8
Real stand up nigga, spit in a pig's face
Audi R8 with the top missin'
Air Max, Scott Pippens, I was pot whippin'
Show (?) next to gold pots
Me, West and Benny, we the old LOX
Show me where the money at?
Shotgun pellets where ya stomach at
Left his brains on the countertop
Uhh, flew to Cali for the sour crop
Bugali pullover reek of fishscale
SE gang, you know the clique well
Shit fuck up, they got El Chapo
Uhh, bricks of boy comin' from Morocco
Mix the dope with the yola pack
Yeah, ridin' through ya hood with the loaded MAC
KG9's with the red beam
Lock you in the scope, shootin' from the mezzanine
We the hardest in New York state
So much work made the Pyrex break
Ha, bodies on the MAC 90
Bal harbour where you might find me
In the kitchen with the strap close
Mix the milk with the oils for the lactose
Giuseppe's with the gold bars, stars
Gettin' bales off the fuckin boat
[Interlude]
When I start to count, we're going to start it right here
Make sure I'm all the way dead
I'm going to come back and kill my bitch
[Verse 2: Westside Gunn]
Handlin' pots
Hand to hand, multi-colored tops
Scram and a yacht, dismantle ya block
The Van Gogh hang over cots
Range Rover kickin' it with Lenox
Rose herringbones and Benz drops
Kingpins with ink pens
Used to rock tans creased up with the wheat Timbs
Any rap nigga can get it
Rhyme superior, the plug had the coke on the mirror
Sniffin' coke out of blue money
On the corner gettin' Jew money
0's flippin, prolific
Rose sippin', Rolls whippin'
.44 to your forehead, lift it
[Verse 3: Conway]
Flow sickest, so gifted
Bitches blow kisses, ocho for those slippers
The dope pictures
The .44 toast grippers
Pull up with a shooter, "there go the nigga, now don't miss him"
(Lock and load)
Young boy, all he wanna do is shoot
Hidin' bodies in the van though like Chris and Snoop (hahaha)
.40 to your face get ya nose wiped
SE gang nigga, that's for life, yeah