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Ah The Butcher comin', nigga We gotta turn this shit up I’m the one— I'm the nigga that all these niggas wanna be, they ain't gon’ say nothin' on they records, though Rah, ayy, look Ask about Butch, I'm everywhere, but back home, I'm heavy here For Christmas I'm gettin 'all my bitches Chrome Heart teddy bears Heavy stares for niggas who chasin' numbers that I already cleared I'm already here, I took over a game they shouldn’t have let me near And I been dope since LA Gears and Pelle Pelle years Gold Presi’ like a keg of beer, you know the bezel clear You had a better year than me as a rapper, then you legendary And I'll excuse that, but anything less, I gotta refuse that, mm We weed croppin’, no dispensary weed shoppin' I'm V-hoppin', got the coupe and the Benz ’cause I need options Streets watchin', thieves plottin', cuffs tightenin', keys lockin' I wanna build after that time in the bing like I'm B. Hopkins, nigga When my niggas pull up clean with them .30s and them things That look like this, that look like this Dope boys with ice on they sleeve, eighty carats worth of VVs It looks like this, it look like this Hitters gettin' busy with them switches on they glizzy Sound like this (Brrt), it sound like this (Brrt) And you might get a little dough, but my whole city know Letras de cancionesIt's not like this, it's not like this Violin with the Draco as the handle There's Ricky the soprano, hit a riff on the piano I take shots when I ain't open, they say life is just a gamble My lil' man'll put you right on top of T just like a flannel I remember countin' up, little bitch was watchin' Scandal Keep your eyes where I can see 'em and you better not change the channel Thirty plus the re-up turn a nigga into Randall We do that shit again and get it chunky like it's Campbell's VVS' on me blindin', don't be dumb enough to try me Leave a motherfucker in between the sheets like he the Isleys Tellin' Siri call away, before I hang up, he beside me Even if they wave the flag to say it's over, bitch, we fire I got lit on my own, sold a brick by my own Those days all I needed was a blick and a phone My young nigga hungry, he just hit a lick for his own and I can't tell him shit, 'cause that's the type of shit that he on I be hustlin', thuggin', duckin' the law, fuckin' your broad You love a dirty jawn, she fuckin' us all, I keep it tall Keep your mouth shut, fuck what you saw, don't get involved You'll get a knife, gun buck or the saw, left in the yard, yeah I'm on shit, so tell your boys quit like it's Ramadan So forfeit, the .44 hit like an atomic bomb I'll get you niggas gone, you get dotted, cross that dotted line Too real every fuckin' time, smooth sail like I'm [?][2:27] When my niggas pull up clean with them .30s and them things That look like this, that look like this Dope boys with ice on they sleeve, eighty carats worth of VVs It looks like this, it look like this Hitters gettin' busy with them switches on they glizzy Sound like this (Brrt), it sound like this (Brrt) And you might get a little dough, but my whole city know It's not like this, it's not like this They say Jones around, then you know the Butcher comin' 'Posed to be on tour, but I'm out here cookin' onions Outsiders function when my youngins cut 'em luncheon Said you want a head shot, nah, put it to his stomach Send 'em from the C to the A like Andre Drummond You say you want beef with us, we cookin' up his youngin My nigga's summer end your whole summer, for you frontin' Yeah, we rap, but we really shooters, ain't no punchin' This is BSF, disrespect, you see a death Bunch of my homies got shot, but your homies got nothin' You niggas playin' Unos, playin' checkers and this chess Headshots, don't do leg shots, sleep in vests (Damn, ah, ah) From Letras Mania