Westside Gunn - Easter Gunday 3 Lyrics

Yay, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death
I will fear no evil, for my AK and Glock 9, they comfort me
Though prepareth the table before me, in the presence of my enemies
He has super S on his feet, so he thought he had an S on his chest with that bulletproof vest
But we coming for your dome piece
Shot to the forehead, give you a third eye
Make your kids cry, baby mama asking why
All bow down to the god of Fly


Grr, ayo
Boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom
Ayo
Griselda
Brr brr brr
By Fashion Rebels


Ayo, I don't leave without my pistol on
Drive-bys, I'm playing XXXTENTACION
Soon as the box hit the skrt, I'ma get him gone
Shoot up your mama house, your uncle brains on the lawn
Blew your nephew off the tricycle, shots ripple
Like the PSI, Lord, you not official
On the yard, me and Blue DaVinci, shooters with me
Went to the halfway house, I took the Uzi with me
Skating over weight on the Palace deck, I'm not impressed
Peace to little Sean, peace to Bernadette (P!)
GxFR, that's the murder set
Everybody got dope, but I serve the best
Everybody taking my shit
Shoot the 8 three times, I might break my wrist
Took 6, came back, now I'm better than ever
Amiri jeans, alligator on the sweater, who better?
I mean, I guess it's Fahim
He still chopping heads off of guillotines, nigga, please
Ninja stars in the trees, come on, fam
We ain't the same, you ain't never seen a thousand grand
You ain't never shot a nigga, no Con Air trips
Never been fly, never fucked a bad bitch
Lil nigga, I'm rich
I heard the Dump Legend shit sound like shit
Mask on like Vader, training like al-Qaeda
Mach retired, nigga turned to a painter
Meanwhile, I'm getting paper
Yo, these rap niggas weirdos
VVSs on my earlobes
Shit, the creator of the sun
Niggas tryna fit in, that's a Camouflage Bum


Yo, you already fucking know
I wasn't even gon' do this shit
I had to, though
But fuck it, man, shoutout Easter, man
I'm just having fun, I wrote this shit in like 5 minutes
I don't waste time on these niggas
Smoking skittles
I'm not gon' even do this shit no more
I don't give a fuck if niggas make some shit
Talk some shit, tweet some shit
I ain't even gon' see it anyway, niggas blocked me
But yo, I was just-
I just wanted to have some fun, man
Let niggas know why I'm who the fuck I am, man
Flygod
See, like, I still do what I want to
I only drink champagne
I wear six figures in jewels
I got all type of houses
I'm 'bout to buy my bitch some titties
And like, like, life is fucking beautiful
Pootie getting that Gucci
That Louis, shoutout to Pootie
But, yo, before, Mach was on these shits
Shit happens
Can I get my painting, Mach?
But it's all about Griselda
See, this a different kind of life
Niggas really put the work in
Niggas been in the raids
Niggas lost our best niggas
Rest in peace Machine Gun Black
Niggas been shot, niggas been stabbed
Niggas been in that hole
Niggas been locked up, 23 and 1
Free Ike, free Sly
Niggas been told on
Niggas done took them trips
I remember one time, niggas had me shackled
From- from Buffalo to fucking Youngstown, Ohio
Sat there for a week in shackles
All the way to PA
Shackled, got on Con Air, flew all the way to Oklahoma
Left Oklahoma, shackled, had to fly all the way to Atlanta
See, y'all niggas don't know that life
Where you don't eat the meat, so you share for the motherfucking fruit, nigga
Y'know?
Get ready for Crisp NY
AKA Supreme Blientele
Get ready
Classic, the album really called Crisp NY
Also known as Supreme Blientele, nigga
Either one
It's gonna be the illest shit all year
But you know who else got some of the illest shit all year?


Ah, let's go
Ski mask, crooked faces, this rap shit took us places
My strap get put in faces, that's word to my butcher apron
Around the world, I'm good with gangsters, got good relations
All it took was patience, now I'm on, so they book us places
Let me catch you fronting, you just wanna be pop
You want the buzz, you want the love, but you don't want to be shot
How you don't want what come with it, you just want to be hot
To be Griselda, nigga, you gotta stand on one of these blocks
I was feeding them, stove on medium, under each pot
Rolling reefer up, while I'm speeding off the company lot
Aye, look, West told me chill, but I know where the nigga live
Like Sopranos, nigga, tie you up, right in that little crib
Get the tape, then throw the pillowcase right on your little head
We would search the crib for cake, but know you don't get no bread
Funeral status, G shit, I could give 'em passes
My team like, what's good with the action, we could give them caskets
Look, 6 shooters, 8 heaters, 6 bodies, 8 creatures
Play with me, I make you famous quicker than a Drake feature
I be rocking Off-White, and I be rocking BAPE sneakers
I mix that with Fendi shit like I don't got no taste neither
Hopping at the Rattison got me shopping on Madison
You talking all that fashion shit but cop it from the Africans
That don't start none, it won't be none
Y'all know who run the streets, huh? Griselda
We gon' see when Tana Talk 3 come
Got my hammer in the trap, I watch the camera like a rerun
Undercover, caught with scanner, throw your hand up when you see one
It's Easter Gunday, I need a runway
I let the clip talk, niggas think I'm Rick Ross, I be with gunplay
You grind hard, you could reach this one day
I learned the game young, and knew that I would teach it some day
I'm bool, you know the rules when you play in these streets
You smooth, cock the tool, now you playing for keeps
Don't pray for us, nigga, make sure you pray for the weak
I bump into a bird, nigga, I'ma scrape up his feet
I just booked a flight to Cali, I'ma stay for the week
My bitch coming, while I work, I let her play on the beach
The ways of the streets, I rob just to stay on my feet
I'm at niggas, rap niggas see this face and they sleep


The Butcher
Griselda, nigga
You know what it is
Hahaha, let's go
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