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Correct Country Mike Lyrics
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Artists: C
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Conway The Machine
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Correct Country Mike
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[Intro] Yeah, uh You know what's up, pussy Uh [Verse 1] Watch froze, foreign that I drove, dodging potholes Extendo clips and the Glocks, we got those Versace my clothes, every time I answer my phone That’s like a block sold, you can say I got the block sewed Grab two cubes of ice and drop those, the product in the pot rose Eleven hundred my O's, it's residue on my stove (Talk to ’em) Dior all on my toes, eleven hundred, rock those Choppers, we pop those, damn We ain't the same if you don't shoot your blick or use your stick Don't try to hide, if we can't find you, we gon' shoot your bitch Nail her to the crucifix, gruesome shit I hate rappers, fuck you and that nigga that produced your shit Machine [Verse 2] Lately I been gettin' a lot of hate, uh Razor to the side of your face, you violate Blue hundred dollar bills, sniffin' coke on Versace plates Think about all the commas I’ma make when I create I come from the bottom wildin’ and hoppin' gates, uh If you ain’t got a body, you probably cannot relate, uh Country Mike died in my face in '98 Gun was in the yard, not on my waist, that's my mistake, ah (Rest in peace, my nigga) Yeah, I get hate from haters 'cause I’m makin' paper Fuck them niggas, I did it my way and now my cake is major Hit your face with razor, I slide with stick like I play for Sabres We poppin' them sticks, fifty shot clips, that shit'll wake the neighbors All these rappers stealin' my lane I made up, I'm who they say is the savior Tell these new niggas they can thank me later (Thank me later, nigga) Boring, it's like you swimming in the lake with gators Razor my plate up, choppin' weight up, get your weight up, pussy
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