RIP Bobby - Westside Gunn, Conway

Brrt

Boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom

Ayo, Ks out the Huracan

One nigga landed on the roof, word is bond

Fashion Week seats, I could’ve tripped the bitch

Whip the fish, leave the kitchen gave my wrist a kiss (mwah)

Phone click and shit, I got all of these licks to hit (hello?)

Griselda, bitch, you see we getting rich

My first day home, I got a Bent

Fiends on the doorstep

Which niggas stepped on my Waynes?

We left the porch wet (brrt)

Ayo, which niggas stepped on my Waynes?

We left the porch wet (brrt)

And what’s left of his brains was on the porch steps

Razor hit his neck and his vein, nigga, I tore flesh

Ayo, seen him on Perry, hopped out the Corvette (skrt)

His brains landed on Fairy he didn’t snort yet

Yo, Geiger, I need more checks

More less, we all fresh

Teaching '97s, I’m a rhyming legend

Youngin fired his weapon, and slide a shell inside your melon (talk to 'em)

The Wraith hold a miller, hold the shillings

Load the biscutits on codefendants

The loafers boa constrictor, the cobra lift up

The FNH and the 424, this just so pure

Pass shorty the plate, I told her sniff some more

The plug’s sister, we kicked his door and ripped his floor

We left out with grace and more

Celebrate with a fifth from the liquor store

Then sip some more (we drinking, nigga)

I pop biscuits off, your top, I lift it off, Conway

The world is yours

Rest in peace Bobby

You know what the fuck is up, nigga

Lalalalalalala

The world is yours

Nah, rest in peace Bobby

Real nigga shit

Haha, mob

Everybody wanna get rid of me 'cause they’re jealous of me

My whole life everybody’s been jealous of me

Everybody’s been worried about me my whole life

They’ve done this to me, they’ve done this to me

Don’t you call me weasel either, pal

No, I didn’t, I think you’re paranoid

You said, no you said it

You called me weasel and I heard you

I wanna sit down that chair

I wanna guide my men

I don’t want to get in there

I don’t want some guy, 7'4″, putting his dirty, filthy hands on me

I don’t want some guy, hillbilly, putting his dirty, farm hands on me

And I’m gonna tell you what’s gonna happen

I’m used to getting the handicap 'cause it’s 2 of you and 3 of us

It’s a handicap in Europe

Part Two

Look, AMG63 driver

Blood bottoms match the pedal, shit’ll screech tires

Please try us, nigga, we fire (we good)

Keep firing, no cease fire (brrt)

Fuck it, pull out his teeth with these pliers (hah)

You pussy, you can’t even take a seat by us (fuck outta here)

My respect not only demanded, it’s required (facts)

You fucking with a $ 2000 sneak buyer (uh huh)

Such and such and them was winning

Griselda leaped by 'em

Ayo, Club Salmon and oyster

It’s cocaine, shit, you can tell by the moisture

3 man cells, I had the most mail

Selling cracks in the rain

Fiends on the Stone Island coat tail

The Bentley on Rodeo (skrt)

The Wang ain’t cheap, cop more yayo

Beat face Presi on the yard

Soon as the fucking doors pop, stab a guard

Beamer i9 with wire guts

I know some real dreads that’ll chop your arm off

For the fuck around, Lord, your time’s up, fire tucked

Rachel’s bouffant look, caught him at the showers for 5 books

Papi

Ayo, caught him at the showers for 5 books

Papi

You’re probably wondering why

Well you know, any time you manage winners

Any time you are a winner

Any time you are on top

There’s always controversy

Look at the New York Yankees

World Champions in baseball

Look at all the controversy they had with Reggie Jackson, Billy Martin

There’s always gonna be

There’s always gonna be people knocking you

There’s always gonna be people that are jealous of you