| Yo, ayo y’all, y’all niggas know what my status like
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| My shit A1, I ain’t never fold or I ain’t never told, nigga
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| For real, huh, we stayin' them niggas
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| We were just built that way
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| That’s just how the universe happen to work
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| Yo, pullin' off tryin' to see if the detective follow
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| 'Cause the shooters and the hustlers all connected by you
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| We on defense, you might need this for protection by you
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| Got me squeezin' on this Eagle like a ketchup bottle
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| When they don’t need you, they objectify you
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| I seen the best devalue
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| They put out work, but can’t collect the value
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| Your team hurt, and your connect deny you
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| I guess we owe it to them preg' gram mothers who slept next to bottles
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| Break a block down, stuff the bag, and I serve it
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| Got a plug who send it at me, he from Cali, and he workin'
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| Box of yams, I’m gon' have 'em land in Paterson, New Jersey
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| Don’t accept it, if it’s late, or if them packages is early, uhh
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| Savages, our ancestors is Africans we sturdy
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| As a javelin that’s stickin' out your abdomen, they curse me
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| I won’t battle with, no unworthy challengers, y’all thirsty
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| I will crack your shit, pockets I will tap ya shits, I’m dirty
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| I don’t practice this, but every time I black on shit
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| My verses be immaculate
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| Imagine if these rappers had the shit how they imagined it
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| Hard to believe that they believe it when they craftin' it
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| From now on it’s a wrap for shit, Griselda, nigga
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| Yo, these niggas real 'til they snitch
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| .45 on my hip, tryin' to slide and get hit
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| Last nigga tried, his whole family died for that shit
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| And I take pride in that shit
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| Cuban link on, we on, I got the mink on
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| Pumpin' my lead, .40 cal, one in the head
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| Shook up his whole block, had his mother scared
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| Knocked on your door, spit in her face just cause you wasn’t there
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| He been duckin' scared for months
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| Fuck it, I’m 'bout to send the wolves on the hunt
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| Play the cut, watch the math pile up
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| On the Ave, prayin' dukes don’t find my stash
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| 'Cause if she did she woulda smoked his ass
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| Right out that fuckin' glass
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| Shit was bad, we ain’t have food, was dippin' through this trash
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| Know how it feel to have nothin' that you wanted
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| And to wake up to nothin' on your stomach in that early morning
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| It make you really want it
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| Cocaine, scales, pocket full of hundreds
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| Shootin' niggas over nothin'
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| Every day on the block, duckin' cops
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| Just tryin' to make me a knot
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| (Just tryin' to make me a knot…)
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| Fiends hittin' up my phone non-stop
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| Just because I got the drop
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| (Just because I got the drop…)
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| They ain’t wanna see me win
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| But I bet you I’ma come out on top
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| (I'ma come out on top…)
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| Give 'em the whole clip out the chopper
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| If a nigga wanna pop (if a nigga wanna pop…)
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| Look, I got this rap shit in the figure four
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| Like I been in this shit 10 or more (haha)
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| On Sunset in the Aventador (VROOM!)
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| Send my bitch in the liquor store (go get that Remy)
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| I’m cut from a different cloth (yeah)
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| Grip the four, hit your forehead, rip it off
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| Eatin' off the bars, but I came up whippin' soft (ARGHH!)
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| Uhh, I’m Mr. Shawn Carter mix with Sean Price
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| Mogul with goons, stabbin' and breakin' niggas' jaws (talk to 'em)
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| Uhh, GxFR, what you tellin' us? |
| (Griselda, nigga)
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| Them other niggas pussy, they was never us (hahaha)
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| Shooter with me got his MAC-11 tucked
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| So you already know what’s up, get your melon bust
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| Yeah, even back when I was sellin' dust
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| I been a legend, rap niggas never measured up
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| Hate when niggas talk about how they just leveled up
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| When I’m still lookin' down on you niggas, I’m a level up (ARGHH!)
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| You hear that V-12 engine revvin' up (VROOM!)
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| Them niggas sick to they stomach 'cause they was never up (haha)
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| You say my name on record, I wish you best of luck
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| I bring the stick to your studio session, wet it up, ohh! |
| (BRRRRR!)
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| Every day on the block, duckin' cops
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| Just tryin' to make me a knot
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| (Just tryin' to make me a knot…)
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| Fiends hittin' up my phone non-stop
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| Just because I got the drop
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| (Just because I got the drop…)
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| They ain’t wanna see me win
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| But I bet you I’ma come out on top
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| (I'ma come out on top…)
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| Give 'em the whole clip out the chopper
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| If a nigga wanna pop (if a nigga wanna pop…) |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Satriale's , by - Benny the Butcher. Song from the album Butcher on Steroids, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп