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