Featured In

Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Benny the Butcher
Benny the Butcher
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Jeremie Pennick
Jeremie Pennick
Lyrics
Chauncey Hollis
Chauncey Hollis
Composer
Francisco Javier Barraza Rodriguez
Francisco Javier Barraza Rodriguez
Composer
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Hit-Boy
Hit-Boy
Producer
David Kim
David Kim
Mixing Engineer
Mike Bozzi
Mike Bozzi
Mastering Engineer
Bernie Grundman
Bernie Grundman
Mastering Engineer
Jack Doutt
Jack Doutt
Mastering Engineer
Jun Kim
Jun Kim
Assistant Mixing Engineer

Lyrics

Ah, I ain't even gon' count down for you niggas (turn the beat up some) The Butcher comin', I'ma surprise you niggas I been on So long, people startin' to hate it, they feel scorn I see the looks on all they faces and I'm torn It's like, I ain't wanna do this, but if it gotta be a shootin' I guess I'ma be the shooter, you been warned I'm in this bitch, poppin' Ace like I'm Shawn They play your shit, look at the gang and then we yawn Why would he make that lame choice? Man, these niggas couldn't score if they had game point And I'm 'Bron After the chip, I told my folks back home, "So long" I move my family and my bricks to a place where it's warm I'm back in championship condition I can't resist all this winnin' It's like me and success built a bond So let's stay brief I'm in a rush at TSA, they tryna X-ray me I made my bitch so bad that her ex can't speak The only way to make her litter is a sex tape leak, a little porn Hahaha Come on, I'm just fuckin' around (uh-huh) Yeah, uh Fuck the world, am I wrong? I'm in the V.I.P., a hundred nigga strong Hustlers yellin' from the bleachers, "Put me on" I ran it up, ain't take me long My life a story out of Psalms And I can put that on my mother, first-born In my city, I'm King Kong Kim Jong-un, to me, you niggas like this small Say, "White bitch," I probably meant what a brick cost I'm in a five-star hotel suite with a Swiss broad Then I'm gone Pinky ring of a don Bad boy like I'm Sean I'm like Goldeneye Bond That's 25 inf' beams scopin' out harm (brrt) So how you niggas gon' hide from us with polka dots on? You niggas is drawn You probably heard when I got shot I brought a Rollie, AP, and a Cartier after that watch (you heard that too) I been back home 50 times since all the rumors were chillin' These killers with me keep asking me, "What we doin'?" Them niggas bored Ayy, yo, get the champagne Ayy, yo, Hit-Boy, we gon' get the champagne and goggles We sprayin' this shit everywhere, we goin' to Illio's Tell 'em open the back room up for us Let's go And I'm 'Bron After the chip, I told my folks back home, "So long" I move my family and my bricks to a place where it's warm I'm back in championship condition I can't resist all this winnin' It's like me and success built a bond (bond)
Writer(s): Chauncey A. Hollis, Francisco Rodriguez, Jeremie Scorpio Pennick Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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