Текст песни Sly Green - Benny The Butcher
Uh-huh
The
Butcher
comin',
nigga
Yeah,
uh
(Hit
boy)
I'm
a
Christian
Dior
shirt
rocker,
two
Glock
wearer
Only
rapper
that
would've
thrived
in
the
2Pac
era
I'm
talkin'
'98
drug
money,
shoebox
era
(Shoebox
era)
I
proved
my
point
once,
in
every
take,
the
proof
got
clearer
Y'all
niggas
make
threats
(Huh),
we
pay
killers
and
take
bets
Fuck
with
us
and
end
up
bad
like
dope
you
can't
stretch
(Hah)
Twenty
somethin'
years
in
it
and
ain't
make
a
mistake
it
If
you
ain't
spendin'
half
an
M,
ain't
no
way
to
relate
yet
Mob
ties,
I'll
prick
your
finger
before
I
connect
you
(Gang)
I
know
some
niggas
that
rather
kill
you
before
they
respect
you
(Ah)
And
fuck
rap,
me
and
my
niggas
sold
boy
as
professionals
They
say
it's
time
to
eat
again
on
this
Oyster
Perpetual
Scars
on
my
body
still
(Still)
they
think
I
signed
Illuminati
deals
(Illuminati
deals)
'Cause
this
paper
talkin'
to
me
like
it's
Johnny
Gill
I
push
weight
like
I
bodybuild
(Bodybuild)
I
let
the
bitch
slide,
her
attitude
fake
but
her
body
real
(Let's
go)
I'm
on
point
when
my
enemies
not
I
shoot
with
nobody
'round
me
like
a
penalty
shot
(Boom,
boom,
boom,
boom)
When
niggas'
traps
was
warmin'
up,
mines
was
literally
hot
(Mines
was
hot)
The
promotin'
I
did,
Pyrex
should
be
givin'
me
pots,
yeah
That's
how
you
handle
business
(Business),
got
my
name
in
the
Guinness
(Guinness)
Records,
next
to
ballers
and
retired
drug
dealers
Side
note,
I'm
the
realest
(Uh-uh),
signin'
off,
Mister
Pennick
This
money
ain't
change
shit,
I'm
gangsta
from
start
to
finish
(Let's
go)
It's
blood
on
the
money,
blood
on
my
hands
(On
my
hands)
It's
blood
on
the
money,
blood
on
my
hands
(On
my
hands)
It's
blood
on
the
money,
blood
on
my
hands
(On
my
hands)
It's
blood
on
the
money,
blood
on
my
hands
(On
my
hands)
Yeah,
triple
black
tints
on
the
Caddy
What
you
know
about
bein'
out
in
the
Valley?
The
plug
ask
you
for
an
addy
(Huh?)
I
broke
bread
in
the
middle
of
war,
y'all
took
breaks
For
a
bid
and
a
couple
shootouts,
I
look
great
(Uh,
hahaha)
I
ain't
with
no
rap
beef,
it's
Fs
on
my
rap
sheet
At
eighteen,
I
had
the
trap
bumpin'
like
acne
Niggas
want
the
formula,
Griselda's
the
factory
You
need
a
million
dollars
and
an
army
tank
just
to
match
me
(What's
poppin'?)
Dior,
my
new
habit,
lawyers
in
suit
jackets
I'm
eatin',
with
a
lot
on
my
plate,
so
I
chew
faster
I'm
an
old
hustler
but,
I'm
rich
as
these
new
rappers
(New
niggas)
I'm
the
Butcher
so
these
new
ratchets
like
two
hatchets
(Butcher
comin')
You
got
rumors
on
your
name,
I
got
shooters
in
my
gang
I
was
a
mover
of
the
'caine,
you
know,
pursuin'
to
the
fame
Y'all
comparin'
me
to
niggas?
(Huh)
That's
abusive
to
my
name
I
sold
the
dope
to
'em,
then
I
watch
'em
shoot
it
in
they
veins
With
my
real
niggas,
this
what
bein'
live
means
(Live
means)
I
need
a
spread
in
Don
Diva
like
I'm
Sly
Green
(Like
I'm
Sly
Green)
I
need
a
long
run
in
Vegas
like
I'm
Don
King
(Uh)
Until
then,
I'ma
follow
these
Bentley
high
beams
(Let's
go)
The
Butcher
comin',
nigga
1 Burden Of Proof
2 Where Would I Go (feat. Rick Ross)
3 Sly Green
4 One Way Flight (feat. Freddie Gibbs)
5 Famous
6 Timeless (feat. Lil Wayne & Big Sean)
7 New Streets
8 Over The Limit (feat. DOM KENNEDY)
9 Trade It All
10 Thank God I Made It (feat. Queen Naija)
11 War Paint (feat. Westside Gunn & Conway the Machine)
12 Legend
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