"Super Bowl" lyrics Conway The Machine & Sauce Walka Lyrics "Super Bowl"
(feat. Juicy J)
Big rings, two of those, Super Bowl, Super Bowl, yeah
Lot of money, lot of hoes, yeah, lot of money, lot of money, whoa
Big 40, nigga, play with me, feelin' like I won the AFC
Lamb' truck to get from A to B, I'm still winnin' what they hate to see
Yeah, got the 40 on the stage with me
Never lackin', nigga, wait and see, never lackin', nigga, play and see
Fuck her good, she wanna stay with me
But I could never be faithful to a bitch, I don't live my life faithfully
I'm only faithful to the cash, yeah, straight forward to the bag, uh
I don't wait for it, I don't ask
I'ma take all of it, I take all it, I'ma take off, I'm finna blast
Play my tape for them and they say nah, the niggas spazzed
Got spades pouring in a glass
All my bitches ratchet, they like drinkin' out the bottle
All my bitches ratchet, they like drinkin' out the bottle
Still on go, on mission, still keep a Draco with beam and extension
Still gon' air it if it's tension, told them I'm really like that they ain't listen
Shoot it quick, I ain't missin', scope on the top of it, hit you from distance
I just won my division, championship rings on my fist glisten
Big rings, two of those, Super Bowl, Super Bowl, yeah
Lot of money, lot of hoes, yeah, lot of money, lot of money, whoa
Big 40, nigga, play with me, feelin' like I won the AFC
Bulletproof truck to get from A to B, I'm really what you niggas claim to be
Super bowl ring out the rimstack
Went Cooper cup 'bouta cop me a big bag
Jugg Jaylen Ramsey on the corner on a bitch back
Girl, I'm a P, I don't move pounds of nick sacks
Boy, take a Tic-Tac, talkin' that shit get you shit-bagged
Boy, you a slave with a chain, you got whiplash
Sippin' slow soda but still drive the whip fast
Name is Jerome but I Bettis won't hit back
Escalade bulletproof
Talkin' dog in a van just like Scooby Doo
She got ass like a hippo up out the zoo
But she still gotta pay if she comin' through
Yeah, lil' mama a star and a comet too
She can fall out the sky and land in my coupe
Turning models to millions, it's nothing new
Baby girl bought me Prada, I'm Prada you
Congratulations
Put her on stage, it's a graduation
Bitch, I'm the dean of the college and I'm glad you made it
Nowadays rappers so fabricated
I got all the numbers in the books, I'm the yellow papers
Showtime the wrist shouts Javonte
I done got rich off the streets with the Conway
I'm from the home of the queen, that's Beyonce
But I done seen Destiny's Child die from gunplay
Big rings, two of those, Super Bowl, Super Bowl, yeah
Lot of money, lot of hoes, yeah, lot of money, lot of money, whoa
Big 40, nigga, play with me, feelin' like I won the AFC
Bulletproof truck to get from A to B, I'm really what you niggas claim to be
Juice havin' motion, don't get mad
Just like groceries, your ho get bagged
Young wild niggas wanna smoke shit bad
Any disrespect and the toe get tagged
Still ain't retired, guess I ain't finish yet
I got more rings than Brady, I get a check
BBL will deflate just like Belichek
No back and forth with a ho, I don't get in that
Still rolling loud, way before the concert
Trick on a bitch, I'd rather die first
Pockets fat like Chuck, no Converse
White hoe, Black hoe, gotta keep it diverse
Pimpin' ain't dead, gotta try it first
Anything ratchet is my verse
She want me to put my meat on the grill
She gon' eat the dick up like a bratwurst
Bitch, you can pull your pants up
Who told you we was finna fuck? I want top first
Hollywood address, all types of access
But I had to get it off the block first
Pretty bitch in my bed, paint the city red
Paint the same color on the opps' shirt
If you ain't finna gag on the tip and make your eyes water up
This dick will not work
It won't work, you know what I'm saying?
Shut the fuck up
Big rings, two of those, Super Bowl, Super Bowl, yeah
Lot of money, lot of hoes, yeah, lot of money, lot of money, whoa
Big 40, nigga, play with me, feelin' like I won the AFC
Bulletproof truck to get from A to B, I'm really what you niggas claim to be