Music Video

Benny The Butcher - Bust A Brick Nick (Official Video)
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Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Benny the Butcher
Benny the Butcher
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Jeremie Pennick
Jeremie Pennick
Songwriter
Alan Maman
Alan Maman
Composer
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
The Alchemist
The Alchemist
Producer
Eddie Sancho
Eddie Sancho
Mixing Engineer
David Kim
David Kim
Mixing Engineer
Marvin Delgado
Marvin Delgado
Assistant Mixing Engineer
Joe LaPorta
Joe LaPorta
Mastering Engineer

Lyrics

– Can't talk this – like I talk it 'Cause – ain't been where I been I told – that like three years ago Who better than Griselda, – (Hahaha) Who did it like us, – (yo, uh) – Say they nice, but don't shake – up like the Butch' (uh-uh) I got a movie deal, but chilling, 'cause my real life like a book (uh-huh) Blue steel knife for the jugg so don't be that life that I took And next time you sneak diss me, just pay me (just pay me) I'll write the hook (I'll write that –) Now look who the bread-earner (earner), the east side Ted Turner In this business, it's best to stay out your feelings to advance further Can't shake the –, I told her "I get the neck, but I can't serve ya" (I mean, you can top me off) She not my type, but her pops the connect, so I can't curve her (damn) Before a bullet wound, there was – that permanently hurt me (damn) In a wheelchair it was hard to smile on my 36th birthday Being honest, this could be karma I probably deserve in the first place (dumb – I did) The – I'm thinkin' 'bout on the jet that's landing in Burbank (huh) – We be back plugging whole units the worst case (whole joints) These jewels on my shirt say, "–, come here, I don't skirt-chase" (at all) Put us over, and that was my fourth felony, certainly Got a warning, I be in Lewisburg right now if they search me Locked in with plugs, so I know that – y'all coppin' no good (what's that?) They get the drop (gone), I'm the type to send fiends to shop in your hood I'm like '95 KG, – I'm with the wolves But me and city Mike and Pippen 'fore Rodman got to the Bulls, uh Before we talk paper, let's make a simple assessment My little crypto investment was probably triple your necklace On this episode of flavor of love, your bitch a contestant Said she don't never suck – the first night, this an exception Hide the paper somewhere safe, a place them – won't expect it Then calculate how long it's gon' take to get to your weapon (are you strapped?) No love songs, I kept it gangsta 24, 7 (uh-huh) You crying-a- rappers', label should send y'all – to Ellen Ayo, Butch', let me holla at you, wait, chill, chill (hold up) Give me one second, nah (hold up, hold up, hold up, hold up) Y'all – like hoes, we can talk when y'all done beggin' Now, let's talk about this – that I did to become legend 'Cause the money not enough no more (The Butcher comin', –), I want credit (uh-uh) The money not enough for this, feel like I made too much of it Seven-figure deal, tell my plug I'm still hustlin' (I'm still hustlin') Ten-year anniversary, Soprano still bubblin' (huh?) A Buffalo – with a flow nobody f– with And the race, I already won, I guess this lap was for victory (uh) Doing songs with bigger acts and they tell me that's going industry But look back at my history (look, –) for the past five years It's like my status been tripling, I get back with humility Make no excuses, came to the conclusion that y'all should hate me (y'all should) They wanna do this, but my shooters been cutting off water lately Too rich to incarcerate me on charges, them odds are shaky The feds watch me get an M on TV like I'm Carson Daly (huh?) Streets tore me apart, my heart cold like a orphan baby (like an orphan) The pain a reminder, I feel like these is the scars that made me (made me who I am) Had my best run when I lost shape, of course it's crazy (that's my –) I ask God to bring him back, pray he jump out his coffin, maybe (huh?) In all white like they ain't never sin, but you will never win How you gon' call me Hollywood, bitch, and you ain't never been? You know my regimen, CLS Benz that I ain't never rent (uh-uh) First thing she do is tell a friend if I ever let her in (damn) They wanna know how I'm up off records that they don't never spin Another ten steps ahead of them by the time it all settle in When I drop, rappers – and this time, they dead again I got a closet full of measuring cups and dead presidents The Butcher, – (Alchemist)
Writer(s): Alan Maman, Jeremie Scorpio Pennick Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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