Lyrics

Ah Butcher comin', nigga Hit-Boy The Army is doing something about the weather Ah, yeah I'm back, nigga Yeah, I'm back, nigga Fuck niggas is talkin' 'bout? Fuck all that "Who the best" shit, this and that Y'all know what the fuck it is when n- Ah, the butcher comin', nigga Yo, last year was 'bout brandin', this one about expandin' Caught a flight to Cali, made 20 'fore I landed This rap shit easy, tell the truth, I can't stand it If I ain't have these Fs, I'd put a brick in transit, ask about me All I did was get advice from niggas who sellin' white Threw the money on the table before the plug set the price I was eager, ain't no tomorrows, I could be dead tonight I was seasoned like patent leather, Jordan 11 Mike I need a trunk full of cash, my foot stuck to the gas That's a buck in the stash, doin' a buck and a half I hung with hustlers, guys who sold hundreds of bags They front you so many onions that it come with a jag The life of niggas who live it, the price for niggas who did it Hoes fall in love when you look like a nigga who get it I know how it feel when they don't like that you did it different 'Cause they dickridin' trends just like them niggas you mimic, Yeah I was young in my prison phases, how you know you really gangster Jail cells while I learned decision makin' 50 grand in the 'frigerator, living room, killers waitin' Plastic on the floor like we renovatin' This not for kids so you gotta excuse it Yeah, I don't spend enough on guns, but a lot with the jeweler I spent a bunch on guns in the lot with the jeweler Then bought a crib for my bitch and gave a block to my shooters Who you know that tote Glocks and sold rocks to abusers? That did record breakin' numbers, broke locks for the movement That was me with no pops, my coke spots was exclusive Walk around with this froze watch 'cause no opps wanna do it Let's go, nigga Fuck is you talkin' 'bout? Eastside Buffalo shit, nigga Montana shit, 1300 shit Free all my niggas, free my nigga Ceas' Free my nigga Duffle Bag Free my cousin Dat You know how we do this shit Big Griselda, big BSF, nigga My nigga Hit-Boy on the track, nigga We smokin' shit, nigga Huh, fuck nigga Griselda Now buddy, I'm gonna tell you a couple things and you're gonna listen Once you get into this family, there's no getting out This family comes before anything, it's a thing of honor Takes time and memoriam, I mean you-you survived the streets That's almost like basic training You're a soldier now, and the number one rule in this army is making money This is a business, it's a pyramid Money goes up, shit goes down If there's something to be sold, we're there We've always been there You've got the top ten position, and for what? Because you're a good earner, and you've got your honor Not like these other fucks that act like they're made of honor When all they are is certified bridesmaids You keep that Benny, and now it's your turn Okay! I'm reloaded!
Writer(s): Jeremie Scorpio Pennick, Chauncey A. Hollis Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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