| Uhh, this that Butcher shit, nigga
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| This that Griselda shit
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| This that Daringer shit, nigga
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| Yeah, ayo this shit so big, it’ll put a hole through you
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| You, you and the wall, nigga
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| Yo, look, uhh
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| I pray for niggas flippin' half ounces
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| One day they reach the point they carryin' duffle bags out of stash houses
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| (nigga)
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| We was cash counters, fast thousands
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| Had me pullin' glass out the pot, the water runnin' like Splash Mountain
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| I catch a lick, I won’t brag 'bout it (nah)
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| I just show up in a mask with a Mag with bag 'round it (nigga)
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| Fuck a booth, you could get drag out it
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| Splashed Clicq' on my last outfit
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| The Benz off white, the Jag almond (woo!)
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| Monopoly, I cop the whole board
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| We rock the (?), bought me a gauge then chop the nose off
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| Was lock, nobody sent a postcard (fuck 'em)
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| I’m still a gangsta, I serve food on the table I chop the coke on
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| I got your bitch rockin' slow songs
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| But we don’t fuck, she just suck me off
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| And come to drop the dope off (I need that)
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| I play the trap in a snow storm (facts)
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| With a brick, I made a stack every time they twist the doorknob
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| They talkin' bodies, but I doubt if they with it
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| This that Godfather flow that got Gotti acquitted
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| Spendin' money, fuckin' hotties, it get highly addictive
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| Lost my gun in a robbery, end up robbin' me with it (shit)
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| I miss the bodies on bodies, so you probably can get it
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| And catch fragments from the shottie just parleyin' with 'em
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| Back home, the streets cold, shit, God is my witness
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| Niggas even get smoked when they mindin' they bid’ness, uhh
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| Tell me why it’s normal when blood spill in the streets? |
| (why?)
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| Smirk on my face while the judge sentencin me
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| I remember when they kept drug dealin' discreet ('member that?)
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| Now it’s like, you can buy drugs and get receipts
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| I’d face a RICO charge if these walls was talkin' (damn)
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| We cooked hard up to soft from a small apartment (word)
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| I seen it all, swear to God them halls still haunt me
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| I heard my brother got cut in the yard in Marcy
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| I’m feelin' guilty, cause maybe I misled him (sorry)
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| Is it fate? |
| Every son my mom raised turned out a felon (facts)
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| They tell us stay in school, but nah, that don’t pay electric
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| It’s funny how we say we trap just to make an exit
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| That’s how you think when you hustlin', another hustler still vouchin' for me
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| They ain’t forget, them niggas bought they first ounces from me
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| Yeah, whoa, I went and got a lawyer
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| My lawyer hired a lawyer and that one got an accountant for me
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| I’m stackin' boxes like UPS, a fan on the barrel to cool the TEC
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| I play the field just like Mookie Betts
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| She never call she only shoot me text
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| I fuck her once a week, but to me, that’s Romeo and Juliet
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| The arm the Rollie on, I use it best
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| Whip a zip to a 44, the dope is raw is usually stretched
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| Y’all be tryin' to gas me, I’m too cocky 'round these rappers (yeah)
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| With the Buffalo gang unit got me down as active, motherfucker |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Rivi , by - Benny the Butcher. Song from the album Butcher on Steroids, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп