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Coke On The Mirror - Conway the Machine Lyrics

By: Admin | Artist: C conway the machine | Published: 2024-22-09T08:54:44:00+07:00

Lirikku.ID - Coke On The Mirror - Conway the Machine Lyrics: Halo Lirikku.ID, Dalam konten ini, kami menyediakan chord gitar untuk lagu "Coke On The Mirror - Conway the Machine Lyrics" yang dinyanyikan oleh Toton C conway the machine. Dengan chord yang disajikan, pemula atau penggemar musik dapat dengan mudah memainkan lagu ini dengan gitar mereka sendiri. Kami menyajikan chord dengan akurasi tinggi sehingga pemain dapat mengikuti alunan musiknya dengan baik. Juga, kami akan memberikan informasi tambahan mengenai lirik lagu dan mungkin beberapa tips untuk menyempurnakan permainan gitar. Konten ini cocok untuk penggemar musik yang ingin belajar lagu baru atau bagi mereka yang ingin menikmati kesenangan bermain musik dengan gitar. Silahkan disimak Coke On The Mirror - Conway the Machine Lyrics Berikut Dibawah ini untuk Selanjutnya.

[intro]
griselda, by fashion rebels

[verse 1: westside gunn & conway]
loaded mac hangin’ from the chandelier
n-gga told on his people, he couldn’t stand them years
black got 30 for a big 8
real stand up n-gga, 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
sh-t f-ck 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 f-ckin 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 k!ll my b-tch

[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 n-gga can get it
rhyme superior, the plug had the c0ke on the mirror
sniffin’ c0ke 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
b-tches blow kisses, ocho for those slippers
the dope pictures
the .44 toast grippers
pull up with a shooter, “there go the n-gga, 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 n-gga, that’s for life, yeah

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