The Machine and TEK

I got
Yeah, nigga
New York gritty shit, nigga
East side Buffalo shit, nigga
Brownsville, Bucktown, Brooklyn shit, nigga
It ain’t no games, fuck nigga
Ain’t nobody playin' with you niggas
Look
Trash bags on the sticks (Ha?)
Homemade ski masks, I spaz when I flip (No cap)
Hurricane wrist, mad glass gettin' whipped
From a half to a brick, had mad niggas sick (Haaa)
You niggas mad, I see it all in they faces
Their stomachs start hurtin' when I pulled up in that spaceship
Had them niggas hurt, I might drop a bag, have them niggas murked (Uh-huh)
And that’s if I don’t clap them niggas first (Brrr)
Dash through Saks to get a shirt (Yuh)
Neil Barrett tee, six-hundred, I had to get it first (You know, the fly shit)
I had a fully automatic get to work (Yeah)
It’ll be tragic to see your favorite rapper in a hearse
Rest in peace, nigga (Dead bwoy), you just a rapper, lil' homie
I’m a street nigga, gt your shit bust to the white meat, nigga (Wig shot)
Mix th sour with the kief, nigga (Smokin')
Any issue, bitch, we’ll squeeze blicka (Brrr)
Machine, nigga (What?)