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letra de 94' ghost shit - the alchemist

[verse 1: conway]
look, look, look
i can’t relate to you n-ggas, your sh-t is not relatable
grimiest of all time, that sh-t is not debatable
chopper wave at you
your vest can’t stop, when i’m poppin’ the k in you
no matter what god you’re prayin’ to, i’m not gon’ play with you
this sh-t is not for radio, i’m not complainin’ though
still headin’ to the top, a spot they said was not obtainable
because the way my face look from when them n-ggas shot my cranial
area, how i’m still livin’? that sh-t is not explainable
free them n-ggas locked in cages who was gettin’ blocks of yayo through
them the n-ggas i dropped my pagers to
them young n-ggas with 30 shot glocks to flame at you
n-ggas who got multiple bodies before they was 20, i can name a few
ayo, machine, them n-ggas not the same as you
them n-ggas playin’ crazy but them n-ggas not insane as you
b-tch, i got hks with lasers on the top to aim at you
b-tch, i got aks, i’m sprayin’ boy, you not gon’ make it through
heard this old washed up rap n-gga was talkin’ reckless
on the internet and sh-t, that kinda sh-t i don’t respect it
tell you once, leave my name off of your records
like nino, i will walk you through the ‘jects, punch in your chin while you neckin’
i’m respected by the ogs, the gangstas, and paroles
that smoke the k2, they don’t blow trees
but sniff ’til their nose bleed
cut off your f-ckin’ wrist tryna get your rollie
them b-tch n-ggas know me, ha, yeah

[chorus: westside gunn]
ayo, your bottle green, my sh-t clear (sh-t clear)
whip the tesla x, i don’t even steer (even steer, skrt)
woo on me, kick rocker (kick rocker)
load the mac up and gift shop it (shop it, grr)

[verse 2: conway]
i get the shottie from the drawer (talk to ’em)
uh, another body finna fall
i move the product to the zombies in the hall
aim good, i could write my name in cursive with the tommy in the wall
i put buck fifties on the side of n-ggas’ jaws
they don’t want problems at all, i know a lot of n-ggas saw, uh
i gotta be a boss, rockin’ prada in the mall
knot in my pocket i got from flippin’ raw, uh
whip the white ’til the sh-t fluff, uh
sh-t on my wrist costs a brick plus
fif’ tucked, run up on me get your sh-t bust
hit six plus times, got you zipped up
black bag that, your body like my last track
i turn my hat back, my young’un poppin’ at your dad hat
that’s facts, i had to bag crack just to have racks
jumped off the porch, i live my life on the fast tracks
had straps hid under the porch and where the trash at
jack boys kick your door down, where the cash at?
woah, i’m the scientist, not the lab rat
machine, b-tch, brah, brah, hashtag that
(machine, n-gga)

[outro: westside gunn]
when these come out, ronnie?
my ps smellin’ like a p-ssy lobby
these n-ggas on some ho sh-t
stocking on my face on some ’94 ghost sh-t
stocking on my face, n-gga (face, n-gga)
on some ’94 ghost sh-t (ghost sh-t)

- the alchemist

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