Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Mr. Pyrex Man, artist - Benny the Butcher. Date of issue: 16.12.2021
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Mr. Pyrex Man |
| There really ain’t shit to talk about |
| Straight like that though |
| Yo, I’m Mr. Pyrex Man |
| Got my chicken up, whippin' up |
| Droppin' off and pickin' up, nigga what? |
| My picture still up on Seneca (Real shit though) |
| Hit a lick and split it up |
| Benz coupe, I tint it up |
| Spent more on jewels 'cause I don’t give a fuck |
| They think I’m good 'cause I’m up, well |
| In a nutshell, to labels I’ma up-sale |
| Street credit plus sales |
| They say it’s luck well, I prove em wrong |
| And half a million bucks later, up still |
| They’ll pray to see us fail (I know) |
| I’m really livin', crib way out the city limit |
| Back the big up the 8 balls only take twenty minutes, uh |
| And niggas know my face, card run it up, I don’t take long |
| As far as albums I hate yall’s, my shit be really hittin' |
| Threw a duffle bag right to the plug like a shuffle pass |
| Impossible, I blew through obstacles, niggas struggle pass |
| Gave niggas game and they fumbled that, I come with that |
| Humble flex, this Cartier drippin' doing jumping jacks |
| Can’t take niggas serious |
| I pop big shit and get these rap niggas furious |
| My bitch be like period |
| Stones in the cuban get cold as Lake Erie get |
| Weak advice from fuck niggas who ain’t gimmie shit (Ah) |
| Got my chicken up, whippin' up |
| Droppin' off and pickin' up, nigga what? |
| My picture still up on Seneca |
| Hit a lick and split it up |
| Benz coupe, I tint it up |
| Spent more on jewels 'cause I don’t give a fuck |
| What y’all niggas know about the streets on the internet talkin' freely? |
| Never touched this kind of paper and secretly you wanna be me |
| Your hustle off completely but I’m reading off a cheat sheet |
| Stacked a couple hundred neatly, my team going for a three-peat |
| I’m holy as the Vatican, I’m passionate |
| My hunger for drug money and ratchet shit just creeped back sporadically |
| Put a brick around me and that will be assault and battery |
| My city ain’t seen this before me and won’t after me |
| The mail stacked up so I’m sitting on checks |
| What we gon spend it on next, jewels drippin' on set |
| I need a spot out in Florida where the Seminoles at |
| You know Jacksonville to Tampa like I’m Leonard Fournette |
| I got love for my niggas, some anxious and some patient |
| The patient ones up, the others just want cases |
| Put my chain on the table and bitches start sunbathin' |
| When I dropped my last shit, niggas knew I was done playin', uh |
| Got my chicken up, whippin' up |
| Droppin' off and pickin' up, nigga what? |
| My picture still up on Seneca |
| Hit a lick and split it up |
| Benz coupe, I tint it up |
| Spent more on jewels 'cause I don’t give a fuck |
| What y’all niggas know about the streets on the internet talkin' freely? |
| Never touched this kind of paper and secretly you wanna be me |
| Your hustle off completely but I’m reading off a cheat sheet |
| Stacked a couple hundred neatly, my team going for a three-peat |