[Intro: BENNY THE BUTCHER] (Griselda) Yeah Jansport J Y'all don't ask me no questions, just listen to this shit Uh (Hit-Boy)
[Verse 1: BENNY THE BUTCHER] She catch a one-way flight to kick it wherever I'm at So if she want to stay, then the bitch'll never come back You wanna know how a chip feel, I've been there once This year three in the beginning of a ten-year run And as predicted, my persistence got my name on all the lists Had a brick before a rack, like that dope boy from Memphis I survived all them death threats and three felony convictions Plug found out my whole team was hot, he kept his distance What's a stage with no mic and no voice of a poet? What's more important, the flower or the soil that grow it? Yeah, it's cool, but one rule, don't get caught in the moment Or it's back to swingin' ratchets and warmin' up water Starvin' made me thin, it ain't no mercy in this game we in Odds stacked against us, had to play to win I got a broad, I never saw her before 1 AM I'm out west in Crazy Girls cleanin' out the ATM Let's go
[Chorus: Freddie Gibbs] Phone so burnt, I need my pager back Trips with that work, my baby made it back I fuck with them hoes, I know she hated that You gon' cry in that Toyota or this Maybach?
[Verse 2: BENNY THE BUTCHER] This for hustlers with straight cash, not bitches with fake bags For hoes who fall in love with trappers and break bags She texted my homie, but I'm fuckin' hers, she fake mad These hoes can't handle a nigga they can't have Unlucky for y'all, you know who the fuck is in charge I put a couple in jars, let it fluff 'til it's hard I'm at JAY house, Kerry James Marshall cover the wall Enough cushion I could cover the fall, you know business is business Bitches is bitches and they fuckin' us all You know how life go, you stuck with your flaws, what's that about? They had me fucked up, niggas thought I'd suffer for long I'm drivin', countin' money with hundreds on the Cullinan floor, uh huh Put my hands together and I pray for the bread 'Cause I get five jail calls a day from the feds Go to sleep with a alarm and a K on the ledge And the fireproof thousand pound safe in the crib, ah
[Chorus: Freddie Gibbs] Phone so burnt, I need my pager back Trips with that work, my baby made it back Fuck with them hoes, I know she hated that But you gon' cry in that Toyota or this Maybach?
[Interlude: Freddie Gibbs] Waist snatched Rollie, she fake mad Uh
[Verse 3: Freddie Gibbs] I said fuck it, wasn't gon' do a verse Bought some ugly white girl, when I whipped it, it's Miss Universe 'Migo brought the chickens on the bird, that's that Scooter work I control my bitch's OnlyFans, I got computer work Freddie Kane, I keep a college bitch on the '94 with the waist snatched Baby daddy bought her that fake Rollie, she fake mad Butcher and the Rabbit, got damn it, check our credentials Hoes get fucked and sent home early just like the Clippers Is you with it bitch?
[Chorus: Freddie Gibbs] Phone so burnt, I need my pager back Trips with that work, my baby made it back Fuck with them hoes, I know she hated that But you gon' cry in that Toyota or this Maybach?Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
