Dirty Harry (feat. Rj Payne & Conway the Machine)

Uh
 Oh, this what we doin'?
 Mmh
 ♪
 Plugs I Met, BSF gang, nigga
 GxFR, oh, we cookin'
 Uh, watch me work
 Check
 My pen movin' like I'm improvin'
 I deliver Def Jams, call me Rick Rubin
 Big nine millimeter or the SIG shootin'
 Brains hangin' out your wig, you a Fig Newton
 Pie cooker, word to Jimmy "Fly" Snuka
 Tomahawk dunk on all of you five-footers, uh
 Speaker knocker, this that 45 woofer
 Slaughter guys, and this hit was ordered by the Butcher
 Payne, more bananas than the zoo
 Gorilla, and all my hammers got that panoramic view
 You niggas gamble with life till that cannon blam at you
 Small-minded, blow out your brain and expand a nigga view
 Raw specimen, pure medicine
 Benny said clean niggas up, I'm George Jefferson
 Black Sopranos, we workin', three quarters Mexican
 Bars hit you like findin' out your daughter a lesbian
 We got 'em hooked, it's the drugs that they came for
 Leatherface, it's still blood on my chainsaw
 Shower Posse, niggas love when the rain pour
 Sorcerer, the torturer, that's what they call me Payne for
 OBH hammer, let a spark go
 Got that big AR-Ab, I'm in the Dark Lo
 Bumpin' Lik Moss, I pull up, then I park slow
 Bananas and pineapples, nigga, no Kevin Hart though (Payne)
 (The Butcher comin', nigga)
 Yo, I got the green light from OGs that fathered the era
 But what I did with a pot gon' make it hard to compare us (Facts)
 I wash the blood off the money that my daughters inherit
 And kept the barrel so hot that it fog up the mirrors
 These niggas rap, so next time we into some shit, check it
 Look, I ain't gon' clip you, I'm gettin' your bitch pregnant
 Up early, serve you 28 grams with breakfast
 And I could charge tuition to give you my wrist method
 In the trap five straight hours, blendin' up fine gray powder
 The fumes knock you out like Deontay Wilder
 I call it get rich music, but y'all say albums
 For niggas who got the long bids and lost they values (Uh huh)
 Look, it's crazy up in Attica, they wildin' up in Sing Sing
 Me against the world like Pat Riley and the Dream Team
 Level three vest, MAC-90 with a green beam (Brrr)
 Dead body on a dead body, I done seen things
 Ah, the ride back with the stress
 Supply packs to your steps, but I'm taxin' to death
 I used to wanna get a contract with the Nets
 But that changed when I got in contact with a connect, ah
 Yeah, look, it's do or die, nigga, you decide
 Last nigga shot at me and missed
 It was like committin' suicide (That smoke)
 Think it's a game? All we do it slide
 Brodie on the backseat shootin' some shit
 That's Lil Uzi-size (Boom, boom, boom, boom)
 Yeah, only hittin' above the neck (Huh)
 I stopped robbin', gave the mask and the gloves a rest (Uh huh)
 I flew to Cali just to find a new drug connect
 And I still got a good rapport with
 All the plugs I met (That's a fact, nigga)
 Yeah, I don't know why you pussy niggas bother
 Big FN bullets flip a nigga Charger
 Your favorite rappers is my sons, I'm you niggas' fathers
 I'm the reason all them niggas tryna spit it harder (Hah)
 You rap like you trappin', you made pennies (Picture that)
 We 'bout that action, we clappin', we spray semis (Yeah, nigga)
 Connect send me the package, I made plenty
 I don't fuck with no nigga that rap if
 It ain't Benny, motherfuckers (Brrr, yeah)