| Uh, I ain’t gon' even lie
|
| I be having things on my mind all of the time
|
| That I think I need and I be knowing that I ain’t gon' even buy
|
| I’ma probably just rob and scheme
|
| Man, I’ma rob you in a ride so clean
|
| I ain’t even gon' rob you blind, nigga, I’ma rob you seen
|
| I’m from a far side, no side you done seen
|
| Y’all slaves to y’all own mind
|
| And I’ma just play apartheid with your queen
|
| Mean, I ain’t gon' even lie
|
| Yo' bitch badder than a bag full of new cash of that rare tender
|
| Ever since she got that new ass that she been draggin'
|
| Fam, she done been The Last Airbender
|
| Coming around here in them yoga pants
|
| Fuck making a pass at her, I’m past that
|
| Man, that bitch could have my whole advance
|
| I might even have to go against my better judgement
|
| Say fuck it and hold her hand, damn, I ain’t gon' even lie
|
| Sunflower seeds the only time you probably see shells fly
|
| Violence be right in my driveway, by a nigga mailbox
|
| I don’t know why I keep sayin' I ain’t gon' lie, man, I don’t even tell lies
|
| Niggas be claiming that they bleed loyalty
|
| Niggas be saying that they come from royalty
|
| But who are you?
|
| Who are you?
|
| Yo, look
|
| There’s wisdom in my words but some men can’t see it
|
| Thinking they gon' find the truth in that shit they reading
|
| My pen stay bleeding, this the pain from them days
|
| I spent sitting next to moms in them N.A. meetings
|
| Knowing she gon' smoke again, first of the month
|
| We was rolling and by time the fourth came, we was broke again
|
| So the dope man fed us, we gram sellers
|
| I’m more Manuel Noriega than Mandela
|
| They want me in a jam like I don’t know no damn better
|
| Crammed in a three-man cell, skimming through fan letters
|
| Like what the fuck I’m doing here in the first place?
|
| When all the weed burn out, I’m in my worst shape
|
| I think I’m cursed, wait, damn
|
| Brand new pistol, I’m dying to take that bitch out like a first date
|
| When it’s my turn, watch the game get shifted
|
| My brain the sickest, so every line pain inflicted
|
| My brother went out like dark-skinned Jermaine, I miss him
|
| He had a bullet with his name in the chamber, sitting
|
| I hang with spitters but really got my name in kitchens
|
| So I do it for them niggas with that same ambition
|
| This the part where the bitches and the cars get faster
|
| The richer these rappers get, it’s like the bars get trasher
|
| I’m the wrong rapper niggas wanna target after
|
| I’m like Bob Backlund mixed in with Marvin Hagler
|
| The butcher
|
| Niggas be claiming that they bleed loyalty
|
| Niggas be saying that they come from royalty
|
| But who are you?
|
| Who are you? |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Who Are You , by - Benny the Butcher. Song from the album Tana Talk 3, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп