Lyrics 3:30 In Houston - Benny the Butcher

3:30 In Houston

Ayo, I had to get somethin' off my chest
Had to get somethin' off my chest, right
Turn me up, turn the beat up some
You know, karma’s a bitch
She a dirty bitch
Ayo, City Boy, 'member we robbed them niggas
For about fifty in jewels, a hundred in cash
Hahaha, this shit all come back though
Ah, yo (And I’m doin' this shit from a wheelchair)
Uh, quarter million in a week, I made your bitch come assist with the count
She could be a thief but because of that mouth, I give her the benefit of the
doubt
Yeah, extra twenty off a brick, those the benefits of a drought, nigga
I can’t even sit on a couch with you if it’s really bricks in the house, nigga
For my city, know how I rock, breaking news story linked by the cops
Cuban links on me, too thick to snatch, to run off with mines, I had to get shot
Rolls Royce truck, they said we stood out, only one mistake, I ain’t have a
lookout
Quarter in jewels, shoppin' at Walmart, take me out the hood, but can’t take
the hood out
Make my whole city wanna be rappers (Yeah)
I made the trappers all shoot for the ceiling
We turned a brick to a lucrative business, my net worth 'bout a cool two million
Already know what you do for them hoes, but it’s about what you do for your
niggas
Meetings with HOV and kickin' it with E, I put my team in a room with them
billions
Fuck all the bloggers, the niggas who shot me, fuck all the opps,
and fuck Wendy Williams
Can’t trust nobody, it’s all smoke and mirrors
I still ain’t make no real friends in this business
Rolls Royce truck, they said we stood out, only one mistake, I ain’t have a
lookout
Quarter in jewels, shoppin' at Walmart, take me out the hood, but can’t take
the hood out
Niggas told me since this shit happened that I’m lit, I should take advantage
of it
That’s why I really can’t stand you suckers, go to Instagram, but won’t handle
nothin'
Out the hospital to a private jet
The bullet really ain’t damage nothin' (I'm good, nigga)
Niggas would’ve been in my position
I bet they would’ve hit the panic button, man (Niggas get shot everyday, B)
They was sent for me, my dawg in Houston got a tip for me
Mexicans that’ll wig for me, their pinky fingers gettin' sent to me, yeah
Interviews with me, all sent offers, stuck to the code, the mob, no talkin'
Won’t talk about it on camera unless it’s with Anderson Cooper or Barbara
Walters
3:30 in Houston (Ah)
You know how this shit go (Yeah)
Black Sopranos, nigga (Yeah)
Griselda, nigga
3:30 in Houston
We get them shits, nigga
3:30 in Houston
And we gon' take 'em (Ah)
Real gangster shit, nigga (Ah)
3:30 in Houston
You know what they say (Yeah)
Niggas get shot everyday, B (Uh)
Real shit, though
I’m doin' this shit from a wheelchair
3:30 in Houston, 3:30 in Houston (Uh)
3:30 in Houston (Ah)
They said, they said that shit was an attempt because
3:30 in Houston
I still had cash on me
3:30 in Houston
I still had a ton of cash on me and I still had jewels on me
3:30 in Houston
You know what I’m sayin'?
This shit deeper than rap
3:30 in Houston, 3:30 in Houston
Don’t believe these dick-eatin' niggas
Niggas really wanna be us (Ah)
Let’s go