Cocaine Paste

Cocaine Paste Lyrics

[Kobe Bryant:]
Still waiting for a big smile out of you
You're up 2-0, what's the story, are you not happy?
Or you're only half-happy? Or—
What's there to be happy about?
You're up 2-0
Job's not finished
Job finished? No, I don't think so

[Conway the Machine:]
Uh, look, we landslidin' (Landslidin')
It's DrumWork, b**ch, we landslidin' (Uh-huh)
My man slidin' like doors on the caravan, got 'em (Brr)
Diggin' in that pot, I can't keep my hands out it (Uh-huh)
So you ain't gettin' a damn dollar (Not a penny, nigga)
I call my shooter Dame Dolla, it's written all on his face
He can't hide it, he itchin' to catch a damn body (Boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom)
Yeah (Brr), yeah, he itchin' to catch a damn body (Uh)

[Jae Skeese {Conway the Machine}:]
Look, Saint Patrick's Day 1 lows {Uh-huh}
I shamrocked it, yes, I copped it
My sneaker problem got bands hoppin' right up out of
My pants pockets, the Yeezy 1's, I copped the ten option {Right}
Stüssy Dunk highs, they had the brown and tan ASICS
Rocked 'em once and then I flipped 'em for the damn profits (Let's get it)
A fly nigga with advanced knowledge, yeah (You know that, haha)
DrumWork (Talk that talk), we fly niggas with advanced knowledge, look

[Conway the Machine:]
I dotted my I's and I crossed my Ts (Uh-huh)
You want a feature from Con', it's gon' cost you cheese (I need a bag)
I did it bigger and took it further than they believed
One bracelet, it's two artist advances on my sleeve (Uh, hahaha)

[Jae Skeese:]
I'm fresher than patent leather shinin', I rock the Cs (Uh-huh)
Retro 4's with the S on the tongue, Christopher Reeves (Woo)
I killed 'em, all they saw is red like the Khaled 3's
My shorty and me, like the Kobe 9's, a masterpiece, goddamn (Come on)

[Conway the Machine:]
Yeah, I'm Armani every three, shoutout my brother Skeese
He threw 'em to me like breeze (Good looks, my nigga)
I rocked the black strings and my Chicago SBs
In two drops, made four hundred thousand from tees, nigga

[Jae Skeese:]
Supreme box logos on the heel, it's box logos on the tee (Facts)
Black suede all over my Uptempo 33's (Facts)
I'm tip-toein' through my cousin vintage like a gymnast (What up?)
They keep me fresh to death just like a f**kin' life sentence
Retro 3's light linen with the canvas on the uppers (Uh-huh)
And they must respect the Drum, 'cause we demand it, motherf**ker

[Conway the Machine:]
Sold ten 'cause I'm a hustler, got the hammer with the muffler
That's the TEC with air holes and I'ma blam this motherf**ker (Boom, boom, boom)
Hundred bands on the band, my wrist dancin' like it's Usher (Hahaha)
Tryna chill, but understand, you force my hand and I'ma touch you, nigga (Brr)

I'ma get you, nigga
We ain't playin', nigga
DrumWork, nigga