Way We Move

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Conway the Machine

Demond Price (born February 16, 1982), known professionally as Conway the Machine (or simply Conway), is an American rapper. Conway was born in Buffalo, New York, and is the older brother of Westside Gunn and cousin of frequent collaborator Benny The Butcher. more »

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Welcome
To the machine show (brrt)
Co-starrin' my guy, Big Ghost (yeah)
Let's get into it, (boom, boom, boom, boom, boom)

You niggas tweet but when you see us you don't speak up, nigga (ah)
I get you tossed in any city I got reach my nigga (anywhere)
I'll pistol-whip you big homie, pick his teeth up nigga (ha)
Fronted you work, I need my bread before the week up nigga
(Where my bread at pussy?)

I sold a nigga a brick of salt, shit almost disappeared when he rinsed it off (haha)
Now he blowin' up my phone but I'm gon' miss them calls
F*ck 'em, he from out of town and my back was against the wall (f*ck that nigga)
Lil bro, I love him, I catch a homi' for him (my twenty)
Caught so many bodies I wanna take a shotty from him (you gotta chill, nigga)
Take the gun from his palm replace it with the Quran 
Now he followin' Islam (you studied your lessons?)

I'm from the bottom had to figure the ways 
To get from off of the street corner dealin' with Js
Baggin' twelves 12's five-eighths, givin' 'em plays (let me take that)
I went from that to rockin' Coachella, killin' the stage (talk to 'em)

In the streets, you got to keep your tool
More paper than my teacher, never went to school 
Young niggas run the streets you know we act a fool
Buck wild, Glocks on us 
That's the way we move

Uh, in the streets, you got to keep your tool
More paper than my teacher, never went to school 
Young niggas run the streets you know we act a fool
Buck wild, Glocks on us 
That's the way we move

Uh look, McQueen kicks with the air bubble (uh-huh)
Thirty little shooters that'd air it for you (cap)
I miss my nigga, I put one up in the air for you (miss my nigga)
Thinkin' 'bout you I drop a tear for you (ah-ha, uh)

Pop a nigga in his leg muscle
No fistfights, we don't dare tussle (not at all, nigga) 
Forty in the Montclair bubble (uh-huh)
Let me just make this shit clear for you
We keep it on us, we don't fear trouble (boom, boom, boom)
The word off buyin' drip, you dress in the store 
Hit my connect, with the bag I collected off tour (I'm on my way, uh)
As you can expect I'm connected for sure (ah)
I had shots, leave you stretched and left for the law
Bet make you two more shots before I exit the door (okay)
I bet you niggas won't test me no more (nah, uh)
Me and big Ghost like the new Guru and Preem (ha)
Gang Starr, just a few years, I became a star (talk to 'em)

In the streets, you got to keep your tool
More paper than my teacher, never went to school 
Young niggas run the streets you know we act a fool
Buck wild, Glocks on us
That's the way we move

Uh, in the streets, you got to keep your tool
More paper than my teacher, never went to school 
Young niggas run the streets you know we act a fool
Buck wild, Glocks on us
That's the way we move

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