paroles de chanson Broken Bottles - Benny The Butcher
Griselda,
we
where
the
smoke
at,
ay
Facts,
nigga
I
told
him,
I
said,
"West,
call
me
when
you
want
the
dirty
work
done"
Feeling
hot
already
Yo,
let's
go,
look,
yo
I
got
a
large
bag
of
clips,
hard
hats,
and
sticks
My
squad
tagging
shit,
y'all
catch
attempts
You
leave
the
house,
have
some
sense,
nigga,
grab
the
blick
My
lil
homie
left
without
it
and
I
ain't
get
to
dap
him
since
My
slime
think
we
homies
so
he
call
me
Bloody
It's
a
blessing
when
your
plug
let
you
short
him
20
On
parole,
I
was
going
all
in
with
ten
These
funny
hustlers
out
here
owing
more
than
they
spend
She
fuck
with
you,
you
buy
her
a
Chanel
watch
She
fly
out
with
twelve
blocks,
I
buy
her
a
nail
shop
I
listened
to
the
lies
in
their
lines
that
they
tell,
shocked
Six
months
before
I
signed,
had
a
pie
in
the
mailbox
I
heard
they
sick
about
me
rapping
'bout
the
drugs
I
stretch
I'ma
write
a
whole
album
'bout
the
plugs
I
met
Uh,
my
dog
came
home,
we
told
him,
"Welcome
back"
First
day
out,
bought
a
.40
and
a
Griselda
tag
I
don't
got
no
new
friends,
that's
how
you
get
loose
ends
I
need
that
Benz
truck,
yeah,
that
great
white
with
two
fins
Major
deal
for
what?
Uh,
that's
gon'
cost
him
two
Ms
Truth
is,
I'ma
clear
a
half
a
million
before
New
Years
These
lil
niggas
satisfied
with
BAPE
outfits
I
need
a
Wraith
out
it,
big
shit,
lake
houses
I'm
talking
condos
just
for
safe
houses,
Space
Mountain
I'm
tryna
see
so
much
bread,
I
gotta
take
counselling
Y'all
like
these
rappers,
but
I
don't
find
it
amusing,
no
I
don't
buy
they
movement,
so
I
don't
buy
their
music
I
wrote
get
rich
manuals
where
I
provide
the
blueprint
And
with
pride,
I
preach
this
new
shit,
just
like
I'm
inside
a
pulpit
Top
of
the
year,
I
came
and
woke
these
niggas
up
Made
they
names
sound
different
when
I
spoke
these
niggas
up
I
stay
hungry
just
laying
my
hustle
down
Ain't
no
fucking
around
with
Benny
and
Uncle
Al
Griselda,
the
Butcher
coming,
nigga
In
this
game,
you
take
some
losses,
I
was
straight,
I
ate
with
bosses
On
my
plate,
that
yay
was
flawless,
we
out
in
Vegas
racing
Porsches
My
dawgs
laid
in
coffins,
one
died
in
a
shootout
No
bullets
left,
he
got
slept
tryna
change
his
cartridge
Caught
my
nephew
with
some
work,
I
guess
he
caught
himself
trapping
with
it
I
said,
"Just
know
the
consequences
if
they
catch
you
with
it
Nah,
I
ain't
mad
you
dealing,
hit
me,
I
send
it
at
you,
nigga
And
show
you
how
to
ship
it
with
bubble
wrap
and
a
vacuum
sealer"
The
Butcher
coming,
y'all
know
the
motto
Those
Sopranos
had
fiends
smoking
white
out
Sprite
soda
bottles
Mob
boss
like
I'm
Joe
Todaro
My
dollars
long
and
my
plug
got
a
farm
like
he
Old
MacDonald
I'm
the
boss,
so
where
they
go,
they
follow
It's
penalties
for
touching
me,
So
just
be
careful
where
you
throw
them
hollows
I
sold
dope
like
it
was
no
tomorrow
That
got
me
cash
and
my
watch
glass
like
it's
made
of
broken
bottles
The
Butcher
coming,
nigga
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