Letra de Mamas Primetime - Westside Gunn

(Feat. JID, Conway the Machine, Cartier Williams)

Grrt (Yeah, yeah)

(Griselda)

Ayo, I had to pull my paint brush out, don't move a muscle (Ah)

Came from boof on bundles

Spit in your face, but I'm super humble

I been ahead of y'all, my metaphors beretta wars (Boom, boom, boom, boom, boom)

AllSaint leathers on my feet, need a extra arm

Cocaine mega loss, bag in the Venetta stores

Your head get severed off

Don't bother me unless a check involved (Uh-uh)

Philippe Beijing with some extra sauce

Stayed on the reservoir

Crossin' over Pasadena, high times, Fear of God

Super Flygod, yeah, yeah

Pour ten shots in your body, yeah, yeah (Boom, boom, boom, boom, boom)

Steppin' over Js in the lobby, yeah, yeah (Ah)

Everybody chores look like Bobby's, yeah, yeah (Ah)

Cherry Tesla, plaid on your ass, yeah, yeah (Skrrt)

Shootin' out the back, through the glass, yeah, yeah (Grrt, yeah, yeah)

I'm so amazin' (Ah)

You niggas still blind, this greatness in real time

Love to all my niggas locked up, I send my

Fake and real is a thin line, I been inclined

Plus, the plug a friend of mine, send at least ten at a time

On a jet, pennin' my rhyme

You see my neck, you the see the shine, I'm divine (Ah)

Young boy aimin' at your top, yeah, yeah (Boom, boom, boom, boom, boom)

Catch Wagyu off the rock, yeah, yeah (Ah)

So many shots, they still ain't stop, yeah, yeah (Grrt)

Fiend shot in his foot and got hops, yeah, yeah (Grrt)

Look, uh, look

And so it goes

Don't you tell me how yo' bro did

So and so, and sold to such and such

Grew up with no justice, no peace, it's just us on them streets like the bus

Either MARTA or you marchin' like you Martin Luther King, bruh, keep up

Niggas speakin' on my name is free buzz

My lil' brother tote banana clips, ain't got no peach fuzz

Still throwin' Es up

We just hittin' open threes 'cause niggas still ain't (T up, big guy)

Got that shit in surplus, so ain't no need to re-up, look

Cold cash comin' 'round the clock, hell yeah

From a city where 2Pac popped two cops, hell yeah

I was bred there

Olu told you to take the blue and red pill

You know a nigga high as the heavens, but still drunk as hell

Heard that little shit that you dropped, we was not compelled

Niggas know they can't compare

My attitude is Laissez-faire

You do you and I do me, I'm down the street, stay over there

Clip long as well, when it block, it look like Clint Capela

Story teller sellin' Snow White, weed, even Cinderella

Either way, ain't nobody gon' get nothin' for free, I'm takin over

I can make the Devil sell his soul to me

Give it all back to Jehova, bring you right back to the street

'Cause now you witnessing the culture, sprinkling coke on the keys

Yeah-yeah, hell yeah-yeah, indeed

Bitch, it's Gunn and JID, a blind man can see the vibe is immaculate

I never gotta try, it's elaborate

I adamantly move like a madman

To the cash, I'm a magnet

They baggin' up the bullets in fragments

I'm smokin' on a pot for the cataracts

I put the red dot on a MAGA hat

That cracker pulled me over, look like Bob Saget

I'm overseas, out in Paris, pants all saggin'

I bet they paid me my whole fee like Lamar Jackson

I only came to smoke some weed

Hol' up, hol' up, nigga, yeah, yeah

Thirty-three a piece, that's a bargain, yeah, yeah (Yeah, yeah)

Courtside, all of my jewels Tracy Morgan, yeah, yeah (Hahaha)

Multi-million dollar endorsements, yeah, yeah

Line of Porsches, different colors and assortments, yeah, yeah

Ex-street nigga, but now I'm corporate, yeah, yeah

Walk in that record label office, they start applaudin' (Haha)

Fuck that contract, if I endorse it, I need the biggest portion

Park the foreign next to the plane and smoke one while I'm boardin'

Damn, I'm so important

Damn, your boy been tourin'

Damn, your boy been goin' animal, recordin'

(Talk to these niggas, king) Uh

Silencer on it

You won't hear shells pop

All you hear is the shells drop, like, haha

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah (Grrt)

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