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ИСПОЛНИТЕЛИ
Benny the Butcher
Benny the Butcher
Рэп
Teyonahhh
Teyonahhh
Бэк-вокал
Chinx
Chinx
Рэп
МУЗЫКА И СЛОВА
Jeremie Pennick
Jeremie Pennick
Автор песен
Rory William Quigley
Rory William Quigley
Автор песен
LIONEL PICKENS
LIONEL PICKENS
Автор песен
Teyonahhh
Teyonahhh
Автор песен
Pete Knutsen
Pete Knutsen
Автор песен
ПРОДЮСЕРЫ И ЗВУКОРЕЖИССЕРЫ
Harry Fraud
Harry Fraud
Продюсер
John Sparkz
John Sparkz
Мастеринг-инженер

Слова

Yeah, these niggas can't tell me nothin' 'bout this rap shit (uh) The Butcher comin', nigga (la música de Harry Fraud) Yo, I don't showboat, you niggas know though Me and Bono minus Gina, we like Tony and Manolo Your dough short as Frodo, I'm at the register like, "What's the total?" (What's that?) Since I kicked in the door, I've been in God mode (it's me, nigga) She asked the same question like, "Why you never smilin' in your photos?" The same reason Bobby went solo, this TEC shootin' slow-mo (slow-mo) I'm tipsy ridin' shotgun in the Volvo, my shit punch like Miguel Cotto (let's go) Who went from whippin' soft Os to late night talk shows? (Me) Y'all gettin' frail, I get the mail in Dior robes Lord knows, my ear, neck, and my wrist all froze (huh) As far as rewards go, every trophy I wore gold (me, nigga) This magic that I'm makin', Pyrex glasses was my major (major) It's hard to tell a butterfly from caterpillar stages (ah) They made me the underdog, I'm glad them niggas hated Now it's hard to feel bad when I flash this little paper, BSF Early, never late, money forever tall, I'm in it for the bank, we winnin' overall Early, never late, money forever tall, I'm in it for the bank, we winnin' overall (ayy) I'm creepin' in the 'Lac real slow Keep a choppa for that riff, I let it go, you know (for sure, though) Find him in the back, brim low I ain't with cuffin' that trick, I let her go, you know (woo, yo) The way I blew up the weight, niggas thought I had a cape (uh-huh) Mr. Extra-12-Grams-On-Every-28, I'm the hood Bill Gates, the Black Soprano Estate Been doin' numbers out the gate, I been triplin' as of late (yeah) Uh, you cross paths with the Butcher, you know your fate (yeah) You gassed 'em, I lapped niggas in this lyrical race (race) I'm tryna catch up to legends, playin' chase Kept my balance, make sure my talent ain't go to waste (uh-huh) Ask the FBI about me, I'm the one that escaped Dope dealer, uh, fiends hear my name and get the shakes (they get the shakes) They look at my face and get the taste (ah) I gave 'em that whip-based and promoted my mixtapes, uh It's Benny ridin' through the city with the mayor with him (mayor with me) Nigga, my whole team titans like I'm Derrick Henry (uh) For my niggas, I'll go to trial, I'll share a kidney Kiss my mama, I left for jail, she sent a prayer with me, let's go Early, never late, money forever tall, I'm in it for the bank, we winnin' overall Early, never late, money forever tall, I'm in it for the bank, we winnin' overall (ayy) I'm creepin' in the 'Lac real slow Keep a choppa for that riff, I let it go, you know (for sure, though) Find him in the back, brim low I ain't with cuffin' that trick, I let her go, you know (woo, woo) I'm bidness-savvy, so they throw 'em digits at me (uh) These niggas wanna win, but don't know the bidness, daddy (nah) You's a coach flight, me, I'm lit, Rolls Dawn (Dawn) What I mean is I got options, man, I control the ball (that's right) Catch 'em speedin' in that cockpit with Gucci goggles on (vroom) I got Haitians that got choppas that put you on the wall (you dig me?) I'm well-connected, ghetto accepted, very respected These ignorant motherfuckers measure you by your necklace (damn) Fuck what's in your pockets (pockets), nigga, what's in your bank? (What?) You ask 'em how to sketch a witness, niggas draw a blank (nothin') I'm shittin', ain't I? (Ain't I?) I need a porta-potty (I need it) See, homie, all in all, we winnin' overall (shit) Early, never late, money forever tall, I'm in it for the bank, we winnin' overall Early, never late, money forever tall, I'm in it for the bank, we winnin' overall (ayy) I'm creepin' in the 'Lac real slow Keep a choppa for that riff, I let it go, you know (for sure, though) Find him in the back, brim low I ain't with cuffin' that trick, I let her go, you know (woo, woo)
Writer(s): Rory William Quigley, Jeremie Scorpio Pennick, Lionel Du Fon Pickens, Pete Knutsen Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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