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Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
Conway the Machine
Performer
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Mario Luciano
Songwriter
Demond Price
Songwriter
Christian J. Ward
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Hitmaka
Producer
Cardiak
Producer
Mario Luciano
Producer
Isaac Benjamin Wriston
Producer
Lyrics
Yeah (yeah)
You know (you know)
I'm just different, man (just different, man)
I'm just different (I'm just different)
Yeah (yeah)
Uh (uh)
Yeah
The streets needed this gospel, I said, "Don't worry, I got this"
Told my girl, "Just stay solid," I promise, just trust the process
Used to take Ameenah's van just so I can go sell my projects (remember that?)
Makin' sure I ate back when not a dollar was in my pocket
Look all the shit I accomplished with you as my accomplice
Niggas I thought was rockin' with me, they was pocket watchin' (them niggas was fraud)
You runnin' up your bag, but your family still ain't got shit (huh?)
You bustin' down your watch, but your mama still in the projects (come on)
I guess they gon' need mе to lead by example (ha)
Usеd to stand on Burgard, lettin' fiends get a sample (here, take this)
15, I got head from Jeannine in a bando (uh-huh)
Now I'm the king, every beat gettin' beat up and trampled (talk to 'em)
30 in the magazine when I speed in the Lambo (brr)
Shooter got his rag on, people think I'm with Rambo (what up, nigga?)
If a nigga eager to scramble, I'm squeezin' this hammer (uh-huh)
Givin' you jewels, appreciate everything that I hand you
I hope you cherish everything that I leave you before I perish
When I'm no longer here in the physical but in the spirit
I tried to put my gun down, but now I gotta stay near it
Every night a dream's of me gettin' murdered, it's nightmarish
Paranoia'd up, that's why I grip my .40 up
41 millimeter Presidential, shit was 40 plus (shit was 40 plus)
Got the throttle on me when I go to pick my shorty up (boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom)
In case a nigga mad, he see my neck and wrist is watered up (talk to 'em)
Trust in Allah but still tie up my camo up in the yard
Paranoid, tryna buy every hammer I come across (uh-huh)
From them days we was whippin' up grams in the mayo jar
To a number-one album, yeah, mama, you made a star
Still drivin' the latest car when I'm ridin' through the ghetto, still (cap)
I reached a position most of you niggas never will (ha)
Bet you don't know how 50 pointers in the bezel feel
Late in my 30's but I'm a shooter like Melo still (brr)
Swervin' the coupe, playin' Burden of Proof
Transparent in my music 'cause you deservin' the truth (you need the truth, right?)
I could get you murdered in the streets
Like I murder this booth (boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom)
Quarter mill' in jewelry on my neck, shit, I would wanna murder me too (a-ha)
The Maybach burgundy, seats burgundy too (cap)
I'm the illest in this shit, this is certainly proof (this the proof, right?)
Yeah, Machine rappin' like a circuit is loose (woo)
I just hope I left you inspired when my verses is through (talk to 'em), uh
I just hope I left you inspired when my verses is through
I just hope I left you inspired when my verses is through
I just hope I left you inspired when my verses is through
I just hope I left you inspired when my verses is through
Writer(s): Mario Luciano, Demond Price, Christian Ward
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