Conway said it best last year when he rapped: “They say West is the brains behind it and Benny is the star, but let’s not act like Machine ain’t the silliest with the bars.”
Flanked by two of the sharpest lyricists in the game today, Westside Gunn has taken the Griselda crew from a local Buffalo crew to a global brand, mentioned in the same breath as Roc Nation, Shady Records and the late Virgil Abloh.
The Buffalo rapper slash music mogul did this, not by having the best bars or biggest hits, but rather by having an undeniable ear for talent and incredible curatorial skills.
Like Kanye, who has featured some of the best rap performances ever on his records, Westside uses his projects as a launch pad for Griselda talent, whether that be his family Conway and Benny, or newer recruiters like Stove God Cooks and Rome Streetz.
From Benny the Butcher setting off “GODS Don’t Bleed” to Conway’s heart-wrenching performance on “The Cow,” here are the top 25 guest verses on Westside Gunn albums.
25. Jay Electronica on “Free Kutter”
Released: September 24, 2021
Album: Hitler Wears Hermes 8: Side B
Producer: Jay Versace
If Allah shine, Kutter gon' shine, it's mathematical Peace God, keep your head up on your sabbatical Jay Elect, Griselda, done finally entered the chat With that "skrrt, do-do-do-do" all over the tracks Spittin' actual facts soon as the originator was black From Buffalo to Tupelo we tryna break from the trap You should read theology of time as your days blow by It'll be like Yoda with Luke in the Dagobah The truth is comin' like Butcher, nigga, that's word to Jigga I pray you skate through your bid like eights, see how I figure? The flow is icy icy, nary a one as nicey It's the goat herder, you writin' for ghosts? Bitch, I might be It's just me, the Machine, Westside, Hermes for Hitler Jay-dolf Spitler, burnin' niggas live with the scripture Like Gang Starr and Freddie Foxxx told you, it's the militia I spit it for that Mac, that Calliope and that fisher You should hang this thousand word verse in your cell like a picture Remember Kutter, you a god, no demi, no Ashton Kutcher My god, my god, without Bruce Almighty or Bruce Willis, we die hard Allah sent you here to be king like FLYGOD
24. Stove God Cooks on “Jose Canseco”
Released: July 3, 2020
Album: FLYGOD Is an Awesome God 2
Producer: Tarik Azzouz & STREETRUNNER
In a Tesla swervin' (Swervin' on these niggas) Talkin' to my man, he said the last batch that came in was worthless I told him, "Nah, when it cook like that is just a bit of a burden (That's it) Just drop the price a couple points and keep servin'" Red velvet Louis jacket, I'm Ron Burgundy See the heat comin' off the hundreds, the money burnin' (We hot) These labels still jerkin' I heard your deal came with a hundred thousand and some Jergens (Damn) These fake boss niggas is really workers I follow the bricks, I seen the wizard behind the curtain (I seen it) They talk big 'til we catch 'em in person They talk big 'til we shoot they Suburban (Brr, bah, bah) Me and Emeril Lagasse should be the next Verzuz Two stoves side by side, I bet I work him (I bet I work him) I turned my granddaddy church parkin' lot to a Church's Chicken (Woo) Take the braids out, let the hair hang like Mr. Perfect shit They owe some streaming money, but I ain't hurtin' I told my young nigga how much, he said, "I woulda murked 'em" (Haha) Big homie fresh home drinkin' coffee out the Keurig (Yo) A hundred and forty-four months ain't break his spirit (He walked it) He jumped back in, I told him it's different, I tried to prepare him He good, he a old, brave nigga, he Hank Aaron (Woo) Forgiatos on the McLaren Young, rich, and arrogant, is you hearin' this? (You hear me, nigga?) Over the stove, bangin' Pray for Paris I think the UFOs dropped the top blocks on the pyramids (That's just me) It's a method to the madness, everything is math (It's all math) You know you kill the foundation, everything collapse Everything is stamped, everything is wrapped If the feds ask you 'bout me, tell 'em everything is cap (Big cap) Jose Canseco (Ha) Jose Canseco (Jose Canseco) This that up three, "Burt & State" flow Jose Canseco (Jose Canseco) Young nigga out the GT with the Draco (Brr, bah, bah, bah, bah) Jose Canseco (Jose Canseco)
23. Rome Streetz on “Draymond”
Released: August 27, 2021
Album: Hitler Wears Hermes 8: Sincerely Adolf
Producer: Denny Laflare
With the right, I shake a millionaire's hand, with the left, I serve a junkie Walked the line, a lavish life of crime, remember them times I had a bunkie on the tier, now my signature a souvenir (Haha) Bitches wanna hang, bringin' me neck like I got nooses near (Uh) My shit is hypnotic, when I spit it, they got stupid stares (Yeah, yeah) Bought they lies quickly and minimize when the truth appear They say this shit a gamblе, you live your life in casinos (What) Death is at thе door, I shoot the reaper through the peep hole (Blap, blap, blap) I see no equal, I play the game on hard, don't need no cheat code (Nah) It's easier to scam than flip a kilo (Yeah) Dirt all over the C-notes, keep the clean stack separate (Uh-uh) For the record, I'm wreckin' shit, natural scrap that's effortless (Yeah) Made to murder shit like a .38 Special is, the specialist I heard your new shit, I'm less than impressed with it (Shit trash) All the fools under my shoe, I'm settin' the precedent They overdose, it's fentanyl in the pills when they pressin' it (Ayo)
22. Joey Bada$$ on “327”
Released: April 17, 2020
Album: Pray for Paris
Producer: Camoflauge Monk
I'm from an era of hard knocks and quiet storms (Shh) Rap songs about crack rocks and firearms (Bah, bah, bah, bah) In the stash spot on some Money Mitch shit (Woo) Adjust the AC, conceal the biscuit (Yeah) It's your life, you can choose to risk it if you wanna These niggas don't want smoke, they want some marijuana I used to get kicked out of class just for my aroma I went to school high, forgot to pick up my diploma (I was high) That's way back when we used to cypher Arizonas (Uh-huh) Now I'm in that Maybach, I'm with Puff and Hova (Facts, woo, woo) We bendin' corners in the six-deuce Talk about last night's ten thousand dollar bottles of Pétrus, sip it like it's juice, homie How could I lose? The shit that these fools'll do to be in my shoes, I'm done playin' by rules Learned from OGs, I'm retirin' the jewels Everything is plain jane, different day, the same thing I mean, it's usual Everything that's new to you be the type of shit I'm used to I could give a fuck about the hater shit, I'm used to it If it's fuck me, then know the feeling is mutual (Bitch)
21. Jadakiss on “GODS Don’t Bleed”
Released: June 22, 2018
Album: Supreme Blientele
Producer: Daringer
Niggas run away and they hide, saying New York's full (they hiding) Didn't say his grace and he died his first forkful Nigga that ain't got no pride is unlawful (uh huh) Things that he partakes in are done forceful Dudes that get down like that get done awful (awful) Pull his razor out on sight and come across you Adrenaline rush make him do it with no remorse too (uh) You would do it too, but you know how much it would cost you (you know) I'm in the left lane, tryna see how much that the Porsche do (ha) Do a lot of thinking, so you can say that I'm thoughtful (yeah) We ain't got a corkscrew? Fuck it, just push the cork through (push it through) Yeah, then pour everybody a glass, bitch (everybody) The objective at the end is for everybody to stash it (get money) The grip is in his arm mean everybody the blast (blast) And fall back so everybody can pass Ask me, and I'ma tell you that everybody is trash (trash) I rolled them Backs, I sold them packs (uh huh) Started with the girl, never should have showed him smack (these niggas) Made it through the hate, they couldn't even hold him back (wire) Told 'em everything else, you should have told 'em that (haha) Nigga, now they even saying you did it, or they saw you (uh huh) Ain't no more niggas committed to the morals (uh uh) They should get bullets, double digits in they orals Stay the fuck out of these streets, they ain't for you, nigga
20. Freddie Gibbs on “$500 Ounces”
Released: April 17, 2020
Album: Pray for Paris
Producer: The Alchemist
It's been a long time since I tasted Workin' that hot plate, cookin' in my homeboy basement And Lambo knocked the coke off the table, that nigga waste it I showed him the new straps, the AK with the green laser (Bing, bing, bing) I'm on some street shit, my baby mama tweet shit to stir up my haters I'm like, "Why she wanna stick me for my paper?" But fuck it, that's life, it's what you make it, one day you gon' meet your maker Kobe died, I swear a nigga might cry when I watch the Lakers, damn All our mamas would watch us, boy, we was neighbors But how you look a nigga mom in the face when you shot her baby? (Bow) I got skeletons in my closet, right next to Balenciaga Call me Fred DiBiase, garage is a million dollars, my nogga Yeah, it's just the way that God be plannin' shit I drop a load, I take a load off, that's load management And last lap, I dropped the ho off and bagged a Spanish bitch Pulled out the dick, she snort the coke off, I'm livin' lavishly
19. Slick Rick on “Good Night”
Released: October 2, 2020
Album: Who Made the Sunshine
Producer: Beat Butcha & Daringer
The rookie cop fam not havin' it, intelligence was hella bent Once upon a time when the swag was in development What is kinfolk if two shots ring to see a bag drop? I speed in SUVs, back wind so Inchin' up, viewin' what I'm doin', gun crewin' It was about hundred thou', I returned it since I knew him Said, "Fast life, my nigga", please don't ask 'bout it, Richard Later on, breaking news, chalk outline a bitch, hurt A noise outside, see cops all tense With apprehend, gun flyin' over backyard fence With a shot to his leg, he damn near bust in my crib Didn't sight excited, tied it, "Hide me, hide me" Boom, boom, boom, "No, I didn't see any flee from the-" Check thorough, best lay here 'til tomorrow Then tweeze out the bullet, so I bandage it, said "Thank you, Rick" And once we were far in the trunk of my car Said, "Got it from here", one of his peers, yeah, so I let him out And now gettin' tortured, askin' questions 'bout his whereabouts
18. Elzhi on “The Steiners”
Released: June 22, 2018
Album: Supreme Blientele
Producer: Pete Rock
El don't hold punches, this that flying fists of fury You wish I had no leg to stand on with no podiatrist to cure me My life was like Eggs Benedict, crème brûlée it's lamb today Tomorrow's lobster macaroni, clam souffle and Those truly wack, who swear they got the crown get their rubies jacked My dogs'll smack you up like a Scooby Snack He face major or minimum slaughter I wouldn't hold my breath swimming in water Wanna stay winning more than women wants a feminine daughter Or men who wants a masculine son To teach how to shoot baskets and guns for fun You in the presence of a Jedi, gypsy read my palm and said I'd make it past the age that most thought that I'd be dead by That's one year shy of the GOAT, born out in Bedstuy And years after these artists overdosing off a med high Ruined your dance, spoil your whole night, what's in my loose leaf Is hitting hard like it was rolled tight, something you shouldn't take light Different from what the fake write, similar to a snake bite You rather me slow up and see my brake lights, then make flights From Detroit to Buffalo, puffing 'dro You in bad shape like my toughest fro I'm well rounded like David Ruffin's fro Cuffing your main squeeze before my plane leave I'm so cold, she slurp me up and catch a brain freeze Then I stroke and smack it in a smokin' jacket Oakland macking on some Coke and Yak shit
17. Busta Rhymes on “Brossface Brippler”
Released: June 22, 2018
Album: Supreme Blientele
Producer: The Alchemist
I cut coke like I'm chopping beats, they call me Mr. Walt, bae Master, the chef, I'm cooking coke, they call me Salt Bae Bitches'll bag my crack while I fuck 'em in a short stay Niggas'll brag 'bout flipping coke while I somersault the yay "Your coke good but you'se a worker" is what you're 'posed to say At a hookah lounge with a waitress serving coke, now sniff it off the tray While I celebrate a birth this evening, pop the bottle cork and spray Pipe your bitch 'til she sleeping, so my bread, you'll be forced to pay Cocked, now I'm letting off the K, developer, molding and shaping the predator Better off the prey, despite how kneeling, they often pray It's like I'm still bagging crack with Federico Blade accidentally split your finger, blood mixed up all in the perico Bendito, sorry for all of you niggas that became victims While we count your bread over mojitos Fabulous imported fabrics even when I'm in my street clothes This motherfucker distribute butter like I'm spreading it on wheat toast So much bread the money bag swell up, we getting it in each loaf
16. Tyler, the Creator on “327”
Released: April 17, 2020
Album: Pray for Paris
Producer: Camoflauge Monk
Bitch, I'm all that, all that, Kenan, Kel (Kel) When I walk in, niggas ring the, ring the bells (Bells) Roses at my feet, niggas kneel, bitches yell Glitter on my neck match the glitter on my fingernails (Ayy, yo) Niggas always got something to say, well fuck 'em Same guys was mighty 'til they got to duckin' We got the pucks and we chuckin' They playin' chicken, we cluckin' I'm Colonel Sanders to you motherfuckers Niggas trash and we dumpin' (Uh), I been rappin' and fuckin' (Yup) He 6'5", I'm a munchkin, and we speed to the disco (Dance) This car came with a driver, I'm in the back playin' "Frontin'" I ain't cryin', the wind is flyin', stop makin' assumptions I ain't lyin' or nothin' Yes, I'm is, I'm so happy I turned nothin' to somethin', skin glowin', my hair nappy My health good, my mama good, my niggas too And they only wanna have good times like Josh Safdie We eat good, long way from Maccas burgers Long way from that metro bus taxi service Long way, loco gangs tried to taxidermy (Where you from, nigga?) We would run until our motherfuckin' backs was burnin', uh But anyway, the shorts short and the socks high And the emeralds shine in them GQs and them Popeyes (Boy) And I spy with my private eye that you tried You cannot pull this look off, nigga, you're not I
15. Roc Marciano on “$500 Ounces”
Released: April 17, 2020
Album: Pray for Paris
Producer: The Alchemist
Uh, ain't no Ls on my jacket The MAC-11 hit your melon and crack it (Crack it) Ain't no pads for that in that medicine cabinet (No) Can't mess with whatever's in that gelatin tablet (Fuck that) Ten metal fragments can flip your skeleton backwards (Flip 'em) All you seen after that was blackness (Mm) This ain't no backpack shit, he slangs half a brick Bitch, you need to ease back a bit, the trench has cactus pins (Ow) The seats in the Benz Lenny Kravitz skin, don't get your cabbage split (Tan shit) It don't matter what establishment, we in it (We gettin' shipped the fuck out) Always get the biggest chicken wing, you don't get to eat on one onion ring At least a hundred Jesus links underneath the mink Yellow Bugatti look like a bumblebee Compressor on the front to muffle the heat The submachine gun, it come with the beam amongst other things that's unseen To run with me, you need sunscreen cream, see I'm covered in bling (Bling) Motherfucker, ain't no shade, even under the trees where monkeys swing (Ah-ah-ah) The marijuana money green, I'm runnin' the company like a drug ring Livin' comfortably off of gut instinct That fell upon me once I was done with the streets (Uh) You still scheme in public, P, let me bring you up to speed You get your wig spun like a tumbleweed in Belize, I get on the beat and bleed (Bleed) Sacrifice of livin' and bein' to please deities Them were VVs, flood the big Nefertiti piece (Ayo)
14. Conway the Machine on “Dunks”
Released: March 11, 2016
Album: Flygod
Producer: Daringer
Hold the torch to the wax pipe I'm a torch, you a match strike Before you talk, get your facts right Nigga, I'll beat a fucking cop with his own flashlight, I ain't wrapped tight Two hundred bars? Nigga, that's light Riccardo Tisci black Nikes, the MAC-11, got it half-price A glass of 'gnac, splash the ice My life's a roll of the craps dice, blow the strap, plus I rap nice Woo! Probably bring it to your doorstep Had amigo wrappin' before Offset (Talk to 'em) Hah, probably went over your head I said, "I had Migo wrappin' 'em before Offset" (Hah) Nigga, that's wrapping up a square You rapping 'bout the trap when you actually wasn't there (Where was you?) I swear, a lot of new rappers is weird They wearing leggings and dyeing they fucking hair (Hahahaha) I swear, gotta admit I'm that nigga In the last two years, show me who did it bigger (Heh) Rocking furs for the winter I might put fox on like '96 Jigga (WOO!!) Real niggas follow the codes Lil' homie was fourteen, six bodies, nigga out of control I'ma put the pot on the stove for a knot I can hold Told the cops to suck a cock, nigga, I didn't fold In V.I.P, twenty bitches, all the bottles is gold Your WCW wanna swallow me whole As do a lot of these hoes, Balenciaga with the croc on the toes You niggas pussy, y'all finally got exposed (I see through y'all niggas) I'm on my motherfucking job These niggas wanna be king but what's a king to a God? (Hah) I'm really 'bout that action homie, that ain't no facade In the booth, I'm DeAndre Jordan catching the lob (Cap)
13. Stove God Cooks on “Draymond”
Released: August 27, 2021
Album: Hitler Wears Hermes 8: Sincerely Adolf
Producer: Denny Laflare
I had to pray over the work (We had to pray over the bricks) We was drownin' in that water whip, niggas had to surf (Yeah) To a kilo from the dirt (God) Runnin' from the RICO, I still had perico on my shirt Eleven hundred for an ounce, twenty thousand for a verse Chopper made his shoulder jerk Smell of money in the air on the fifteenth and the first That bein' broke shit was a curse, I done killed your favorite rapper Got a body in the trunk, we bangin' Esco in the hearse (We bangin' Esco in the hearse) She got the TEC inside the purse, the big Telfar, I used to sell hard The Bally belt on, the yayo god You still owe the plug, I just pay him off It's what you do after the brick, bitch, I'm Draymond
12. Benny the Butcher on “Shower Shoe Lords”
Released: March 11, 2016
Album: Flygod
Producer: Daringer
Uh, could've told my story on Oprah, 60 Minutes How I earned plenty digits from risky business What you know about a stint? Gotta sit for Christmas Wifey on shit, that bitch missing visits 'Cause we was stretching white like Richard Simmons Caught a case and the nigga pled the 5th amendment Yeah, you know the whip be rented and bricks be in it, uh And I'ma get this chicken 'til my clique get sentenced I need a stash in the wall that whole 90 pies Word to me, I've been live since '95 Took a trip to get the bag like 90 times Yeah, you got it from your plug, but it's probably mines All I needed was a trap spot, scale and a plate I ended up on a flat cot, cell upstate Now I really need a black Glock, shells and a tank Yeah, the shit'll get uglier than Welven Da Great D's kicked in the door and snatched the full pound My man paid ten stacks just to blow trial Now he callin' home, tellin' the crew to slow down I'd be rich if I knew then what I know now, uh Livin with regrets and I'm still willing to bear it Plus the shoe fits and I'm still willing to wear it It's hard being a family man with interference All the women and them trips to prison ended my marriage I grew up with a few damn crooks that bake work up Who used to have food stamp books and case workers Me? I'm way further from a place you ain't heard of Where you get rich, die trying and face murder Where your best friends start to switch when the case surface Where it's hard to trust a man who ain't nervous I fell asleep with 50 grand in a locked apartment That night, I had a dream like Dr. Martin, woo, yeah
11. Jadakiss on “Right Now”
Released: August 27, 2021
Album: Hitler Wears Hermes 8: Sincerely Adolf
Producer: Denny Laflare
Went to see the plug for some work, threw him a trash bag (Yeah) Brick and a half in the pot, Dior gas mask (Woo) Break it all down into rocks and get the cash fast (Cash) My lil' nigga spin through your block and get the last laugh (Brrt) They let the Desi' spray (Uh) Peep how the sleeves stop right where the Presi' lay (Yeah) Scrape the pot, let the resi' stay (Leave it) Buncha lies in your resume (Lies) Do something, don't hesitate (Do something) And I don't wanna tussle (Nah), I'll put this hawk in your muscles You inherited money, you never learned how to hustle (Haha) I was graveyard shiftin' with the fiends, used to murder it (Right here) Just keepin' my eye on 'em, they the ones servin' it (Uh-uh) They wanted that off-white way before Virgil's shit (Tellin' you) Water and coke'll get you rich, huh, the nerve of it (Nerve) Yeah, I like nice things, but I ain't with the splurgin' shit (Nah) Couple hundred mil' right now, I'm on the verge of it
10. Conway the Machine on “George Bondo”
Released: April 17, 2020
Album: Pray for Paris
Producer: Beat Butcha & Daringer
We was sellin' dog food and we was sellin' fish (Cap) Feds was buildin' cases, they ain't never stick (Hahahaha) Y'all had the triple beam dreams, we really measure bricks (We really sold that) Shit was movin' fast as we cook it up, we sell it quick (Hah) Any beat I'm on, I gotta get my shit off Your watch ain't cost thirty and up? Take that shit off (Take that shit off, nigga) I'm impactin' the culture like Eric Bischoff Big biscuit of that Biscotti makin' my bitch cough (Cap) They on Google, they wonder what I got rich off They see me pullin' off in that Dawn, the top lift off (Hah) The kid from May Street that used to whip soft (Whip) And let his fif' off, now I'm the big boss, I drop the bag, I have you picked off (Boom, boom, boom, boom) My shooter don't speak but you can tell that he dangerous (Cap) He just aim steady the stainless (Hah) Drive-bys out of minivans, Chevys and Ranges (Brr) Rap nigga go to the club in my city, tuck every chain in (Hah) Gettin' niggas clipped while I'm with celebrities hangin' (Uh-huh) I got two felonies, now they tell me I'm famous (I'm famous now) My life is definitely changin' Roc Nation brunch, I'm with a R&B singer gettin' better acquainted (What up, baby?) If thou steal from FLYGOD, that's a sin It ain't another rapper that's alive that can match my pen Back again, MAC clap your men, stacked a half an M I was him before you ever heard me on a track with Em, it's The Machine, nigga (Yo)
9. Stove God Cooks on “Right Now”
Released: August 27, 2021
Album: Hitler Wears Hermes 8: Sincerely Adolf
Producer: Denny Laflare
Tell 'em bring the biggest scale to me right now (Tell 'em bring the big scale right now) Drag the stove to me right now (Drag it to me right now) I'ma cook the whole thing right now (I'ma cook it right now) Sign my name on the cocaine right now (Sign my name on it right now) We was spinnin' in the pot so long we got dizzy Had him circlin' his block so long they got dizzy I'll have him shoot the whole thing right now (I'll have him shoot your shit up right now) Stamp my face in the cocaine right now (Brrt, put my face on it right now)
8. Lil Wayne on “Bash Money”
Released: August 27, 2021
Album: Hitler Wears Hermes 8: Sincerely Adolf
Producer: Denny Laflare
Karate with the stars, nigga Got my feet kicked up that far, nigga Black belt, Balenciaga jeans, yeah, it's soft denim Got the bulge in 'em, that's all cheese, Sargento Got the new spot, glass house, that's all windows I be starin' out 'em all day lookin' for God's signals Starin' out into my driveway at the different car symbols All big bodies with soft guts like scar tissue These funny cats'll Garfield you I just let this chopper ring, won't even phone bill you Long money, long magazine, long pistol These Celine tall Timbs is mean, short temper Ah yes, money talk givin' niggas little man complex Four finger rings will limit hand to hand contact Tunechi 3K, three bad bitches with me, booty beefcake My homie in the back masked up like lucha libre (Baow), uh All black nina, call her dark and lovely Feds took my gold one, I cried like they took my daughter from me You don't know the half of it, bullets givin' c-sections Split niggas in half for me, on codeine, I'm a crash dummy Big dog, get swallowed down to my last puppy I could make your Kim, Kourtney, Khloe do the dash for me Young Money, Cash Money, uh, blast for me Throw some money on the dancer, make some money dance for me Mula
7. Sauce Walka on “Lakers vs. Rockets”
Released: July 5, 2019
Album: Flygod is an Awesome God
Producer: DJ Muggs
Prostitutes sellin' pussy by the parking meters Taco trucks on the corner sellin' fresh fajitas Burberry summer linen shorts, MAC stuffed between 'em My city hot as hell, I live around a bunch of demons Sixty white bitches in my cellphone, I'm Charlie Sheenin' I'm servin' good burgers around this bitch, I'm Kel and Kenan The jacket Bathing Ape, but my shoes Al McQueenin' My bulldog a pimp too, 5K for his semen His stud fee worth your plug fee I'm in the Maybach, curtains lifted up, watchin' Rugby I had to learn to hug the Glock, nobody hugged me I had to learn to love the block, nobody loved me My name enormous in the concrete In high school, I blew the aux cord up with gasoline sheets (What's good?) My barber only cut my hair with Supreme clippers The Maybach break pads got Supreme stickers (Woo) My lil' brother lost it all when the Ds hit him Lil' nigga tried to tap dance with no rhythm Shang Tsung, they done snatched the soul out his goals, nigga Another ghetto book closed, nigga, ooh-wee
6. Conway the Machine on “Hall & Nash”
Released: September 22, 2014
Album: Hitler Wears Hermes II
Producer: Daringer
Ayo, I had to Vert the Vanquish Basquiats in the bandos, we tasteless S.E. Gang, hammer on the waist Shit, leavin' the club wasted, waivin' it in niggas' faces Louis reekin' out my fuckin' pores Sweepin' coke off of marble floors Medusa head on the buckle shit I came with the semi-LV's on the luggages Blood bottoms with the spikes on it Canary choke, par, pink ice on it Fresh new MAC on the dresser chillin' Watchin' Run's House, daydreamin' 'bout Vanessa Simmons Playin' chess on the luggage Zanottis unzipped match the Lagerfeld bucket Smell the dope on me at the little homie graduation He caught his first body, told him, "congratulations" Rockin' minks at the Broner fight If the four pound don’t then the chopper might How the fuck you 'gon do me harm, nigga? I'm surrounded by shooters, I'm Lebron nigga Shootin' like Curry nigga Do you like Flip when Birdie ripped him Two .45's on me like Jimmy Jump MAC in the Reagan era, bag in the baby's trunk Python on the Just Don Fendi dinner plates with the Gold Bond Twistin' up the gas in a Versace store Spent so much cash they gotta lock the door The SLS coke white Free Sly Green, they gave my nigga four lifes This the kind of shit the game miss, hurricane wrist In the kitchen whippin' up a cocaine dish Stop bink at the dice game Catch him in the yard with the knife gang Niggas ain't fuckin' with my night game Forty for the Hublot, that was light change Couple MACs in my bitch' Birkin Throw him off the roof now he fly for certain And, bitch, I want all the cash Conway, Westside Gunn—Hall & Nash, nigga
5. Benny the Butcher on “George Bondo”
Released: April 17, 2020
Album: Pray for Paris
Producer: Beat Butcha & Daringer
Look back three years ago when ain't nobody know me (Nobody) Now I treat this rap shit just like somebody owe me (Butcher comin', nigga) Think it's a game until I Patrick Kane somebody homie That's slidin' through with a stick, shootin' one by the goalie (Brr) I got nice, practice repeated, when rappers was decent When you ain't leave the house unless your gat was matchin' your sneakers (Yeah) Is y'all nigga rappin' or tweetin'? (What else?) Stackin' or beefin'? (What y'all doin'?) I get you whacked at The Venetian for blasphemous speakin', uh-huh Watch band snakeskin, gang at the door, let the apes in 20K spent, that's how my day went Bulletproof the foreign to feel safe in (I'm good) Mirror smoke-grey tint, it's just to take trips to the bank in Telly by the border, Glock on top of the covers (Uh huh) The room next door got duffels stacked on top of each other Me and my old plug alright (We cool), but we don't rock with each other That was only business and we done did a lot for each other (I made that nigga rich) Yeah, I'll fuck around and leave the party with my tool ringin' (Boom, boom, boom, boom, let's go) Jewels blingin', tailored suit like a blues singer You know my Backwood like two fingers (Tuh), hustler, I'm the true meanin' Turned one to two like I'm Houdini (My stove game still official) Yeah, this for the corners that we anointed (Anointed) Opened up with a small group of soldiers that I appointed (Uh) I'm up due to all of the bullshit that I avoided She suck, fuck, count up the money, but still annoyin' It's Griselda, nigga
4. Conway the Machine on “Brutus”
Released: June 22, 2018
Album: Supreme Blientele
Producer: Pete Rock
It's the Machine, they act like they forgot (Hah) I'm 'bout to hit 'em with that fatal shot, I leave him laying in a vacant lot Try to take my chain, you just gon' take a shot (That's all you gon' get, nigga) I take a block and whip the shit, I scrape the pot (With what?) More shooters on my team than what the Lakers got (Hah) Cee-lo gains, bank was stopped, I throw trips, take the pot (Hahahaha) Ha, I'm on top, you ain't gon' take my spot (Never) I bet all of this paper in this Maison box (You know them Margiela sticks) You better have something to fire with you I fire missiles, leave you bleeding like a lion bit you (Uh huh) Fuck you and them niggas riding with you (Fuck all y'all niggas) I'm here to terrorize the game, .45 on me, I'm Spider Mitchell (Hah hah) I don't tuck my necklace, I'ma leave it out (I'm rocking my shit) You say you better than me but you broke, that shit don't even out (You still broke though) My young boys eating like they never seen a drought In my trap, everybody weighing like it's Keenan house (Hahaha) They say my shit is album of the year and it ain't even out And yet I'm still the one you seem to doubt, uh (Talk to 'em) Out in Cali, I brought the demon out (Vroom) Riding through Calabasas, took the scenic route (Uh huh) Bag on the back seat in case I need a house (Might want to buy a house) With a bitch that keep tryna pull my penis out (Gotta chill, baby) I live a hell of a life, I'm impaling a knife Inside a competitor just to sever and slice (Woo!) I'm Stephen from the stripe, I'm better than nice I want your necklace or your life and I ain't telling you twice (Run that shit) Look, I came a long way from measuring white I got right, flooded the Sky Dweller bezel with ice My man shot a nigga daughter by mistake, he took a quarter Asked him why he copped out, he said that's better than life
3. Benny the Butcher on “Sensational Sherri”
Released: July 5, 2019
Album: Flygod is an Awesome God
Producer: The Alchemist
You might catch me dolo but the drum hold fifty If the po' come get me, I might come home 60 (Damn) If I get head in the whip, she might come home sticky (That shit sticky) It worked, triple your worth if you move one load with me, and that's on God You know when pies get measured, that's when ties get severed, nigga And we are never squashing, I like conflict better, uh My name in conversations with accomplished legends Anybody that rhyme pathetic done got beheaded My niggas in the field lettin' TECs off, ratchets pop (Brr) And the rest in them hills and them rec yards shadowboxing Take a rapper chain, bring it here, I'll gladly rock it (Let me have it) Me, West, and Conway like Mike, Bird, and Magic Johnson .44 mag, ski mask and the fabric cotton My eyes done seen shit my kids can't imagine watching Nigga'll put you in the casket for the hat you rocking Dope boy, I had to use a mattress as an extra pocket They spend half they careers getting over (What?) This nickel shoot like Kerry Kittles from Villanova I used to take trips in the cab to get the coca I still ride in the back of the whip getting chauffeured Feds at my front door, try to leave the gang plugs and one more I told him fuck it, as long as it come raw I was there when it jumped off This for my nigga in the feds who won't get to see his son crawl Let's go
2. Benny the Butcher on “Gods Don’t Bleed”
Released: June 22, 2018
Album: Supreme Blientele
Producer: Daringer
Even the FBI said the squad was violent They labeled us young, wild, and homicidal But hustlers treat my last shit like it's some kind of Bible 'Cause I drove with my last brick in a Honda Pilot Missing fathers, he never got his guidance Got in the game, and never got to get his input when I decided It's not surprising, niggas not as nice as Griselda And I'm as bright as my elders, Off-White at Coachella How you on parole with a curfew and some beef? Don't shit where you eat, the first rule of the streets And depending what I'm paying, I could send 'em where you laying Body snatcher jumping out the Renault with it in his hand Had to take a few trips just to kick it with my man Like did he give us what I'm planned, I guess I'm filling up the van, uh Bring it back in bales but distribute it in grams Conversations in the cell, where most criminals advance Let's backtrack, had my first daughter with my first wife Bought my first quarter, caught my first stripe Set up by a nigga, I served twice He got picked up, then he bitched up, like he was 'bout to serve life I turn dope to dollars, how you explain that? Straight facts, blood on the money when it got paid back You know them hustlers who sling packs I'm tying with them same cats in case I gotta get my name back All them nights I had to pray for this, they gon' pay for this No mistaking it, got a safe with no more space in it We put it on tracks, these rappers copy and pasting it Take Belichick playbook and still won't be the Patriots Y'all shocked, I'm out your league by a long shot My team gave the city smoke like cigar shops, damn They tryna get my man what Saddam got Say my name and wake these niggas up like alarm clocks
1. Conway the Machine on “The Cow”
Released: October 31, 2016
Album: Hitler Wears Hermes 4
Producer: Daringer
Roll the Swisher, get high, free the homies behind the wall Free my niggas inside, all them niggas that died Rest in peace to my niggas, I hope they live in the sky Pour out some liquor, load your fifth up for your niggas and ride For your niggas that got hit bad and didn't survive Sometimes I feel like, I'm the realest nigga alive Since we was kicking doors, four niggas divvying pie They ain't believe me when I told niggas the city was mines Now look at me though, Buffalo nigga But did records with Kool G though, necklace is two kilos Remember when the Feds gave fifteen to cousin Tito Me and Papp was right there, he took it like a G though That's a real nigga, that's a fact When I came home from doing two, he gave me a half ounce and a rack And said, "You don't owe me shit, just put the city on the map" That was eleven years ago and now I'm doing just that Ask my baby momma how much I cried when Machine Gun died When I pulled up and seen that yellow tape outside Had me ready to grab the stick and go apes outside I never found out who did it, that shit ate my pride, I swear Heh, but maybe that was a sign Maybe God ain't want me killing them niggas and doing time Maybe God wanted me here to kill 'em with the rhyme Maybe that was part of his plan and part of the design I don't know, I'm not religious, all I know is I'm viciously gifted When I script and then it's strictly for my niggas (woo!) I might shed a tear listening to this shit Pop the Spade cork like, "Machine Gun, we did it" Damn, who would've known my crew would've blown? Every verse is verse of the year, shit is proven and shown I needed West and Daringer, I couldn't do it alone 'Member that fuck nigga pulled up using his chrome Hit the back of my head and neck, I should've died, nigga I feel like my nigga Dunce kept me alive, nigga Slapping my face like, "Bruh, open your eyes, nigga" Shaking my head like, "Fuck that, you can't die, nigga" Only real shit what I provide, nigga I wrote this shit with the tears in my eyes, nigga Now they gotta consider me top five, nigga You hearing my shit, is you surprised, nigga? You know what's funny, I wanted to quit After I got shot in my head, I seen my face like, "I'm done with this shit" (It's over) Trying to spit my verses and mumbling and shit Face twisted up looking ugly and shit That Bell's Palsy had me looking like I had a stroke But every bar raw like a slab of coke And them same niggas that laugh and joke Is doing bad and broke, and everything I drop is classic, dope This the realest shit in my pad I wrote This the realest shit that I wrote
