Kin Xpress

Conductor

Yeah

Conductor

At this point, I'm just unfuckwittable, ****

Yeah

Four chicken wings, lobster fried rice, still on that hood shit

Four homicides in the same night, we on that bullshit

I'm Trick Daddy with them pots, whippin' that girl, she's such a good bitch

Eighteen wheelers bringing us za, we getting hood rich

Blew 50 at the Louis V store

Out in Paris rolling up a hundred crowns at the Rue, bitch, I'm arrogant

You know papi on 10th street had the heroin

On the Megabus taking bricks down to Maryland

On the Megabus taking bricks down to Maryland

Your dog locked, you keep 'em outside and take care of him

I'm pulling up, German engineering, bitches stare at 'em

The Benz white, shooter like Glen Rice

Champion piece of pesto Margherita, thin slice

Big pipe in this 3X Pelle Pelle

I hate all of you rappers, I'm Melle Mel

The flow is Kane versus Undertaker, this Hell in the Cell

Really from the trenches, give a fuck 'bout no record sales

Well, the fit fresh, I just need a photo

Griselda Records, I should be the logo

Bitch text me, said she 'bout to leave Komodo

R&B star, shit, it probably was Coco

Four chicken wings, lobster fried rice, still on that hood shit

Four homicides in the same night, we on that bullshit

I'm Trick Daddy with them pots, whippin' that girl, she's such a good bitch

Eighteen wheelers bringing us za, we getting hood rich

I done see **** fall a lot, seen **** ball a lot

Two million tucked in my parking spot

Tripled that on real estate, my couch cost 88

I call that sitting on 80k, I'm heavy weight

Pressing buttons in a Porsche and shit

TEC on my like IT, quick like Ali

Bruce Leroy, chopping nine keys

Preparing for the bullshit

I'm ducked off, sipping on a chai tea

Spilling weed crumbs on my white tee

Italian wood floors in my crib, I'm not a ball player

If you not talking big numbers, I'ma call you later

Gliding in the 992, looking like terminator

Me and money correlated, I'm manifesting bigger things

Been seeing RICOs, like I swept clean

Copped the Benz from Ninos, tossed it on 23's

I was 'bout nineteen, baby boy on the way

Weighing up fifty p's, praying that I make it safe

Praying that these ****—

Praying that they won't tell

Knowing that these **** fake

Still on that hood shit

Candy hoes not yours

On my way to serve a J

What's happenin'

Conway

Coming live from Hunters Point, California, ****

All the way to Buffalo

TFM

Conductor, we have a problem

Griselda