| We gonna slow things down and take it back in time
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| Yeah, uh
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| We gon' make niggas feel like this shit
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| Yo
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| Smoking grapes and went to war with a poker face
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| Load the eight, get the drop, then we unload your safe
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| I used to pitch on my corner late
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| Fifth on my bulging waist, way back in those flip Motorola days
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| We street niggas in the race for millions
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| I ate with dealers, I’m straight ‘cause my face familiar
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| I’m from a place where we trap and sell weight from buildings
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| Trust me, this not a place you wanna raise your children
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| Nah, we don’t sell zips, the plug wholesale bricks
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| And got the crib with more rooms than a motel six
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| We roll Ls thick with gas so that dope smell stick
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| Heard they said it was dating, but that coke sell quick
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| Fuck riding in a nigga’s coattails, shit
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| What you know about facing that 5 to 40, but don’t tell shit
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| Oh well, it’s the most real when the pro scale this
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| Like old mist, stopping the Giants, I’m on my Odell shit
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| You tryna see how many cops I can outrun
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| Never been outgunned, but niggas still doubted the outcome
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| Your favorite rap nigga about done
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| And I’m still front line, I put a half in the pot and I pull out one
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| These niggas talking gunplay, but they not about none
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| Went down for a home invasion soon as the drought come
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| Top of the line hustle, you not one of mine, fuck you
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| I got this hunger from watching my mom struggle
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| I been harder, legend that still’ll shoot like Vince Carter
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| I’m nasty, my flow dirtier than Flint water
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| And being broke was a big problem, so I whipped quarters
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| Fell back, the trap bubbled up like dish water
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| Collect all payment or I’m just gon' spray shit
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| Put a bullet on your hat like Just Don snakeskin
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| They said I’d be a loser and a failure, from where they usually’ll jail you
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| Benny the Butcher, shooter for Griselda, nigga
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| Uh, shooter for Griselda, nigga
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| I’m a shooter for Griselda, nigga
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| From where they usually’ll jail ya
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| Benny the Butcher, shooter for Griselda
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| Ah, yeah
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| Got sticks with us, nah mean?
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| Doot doot doot doot doot doot doot doot
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| Doot doot doot doot doot doot doot doot
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| Sticks got 50 in ‘em
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| Doot doot doot doot doot doot doot doot
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| Doot doot doot doot doot doot doot doot
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| We gotta beg, we gotta beg you little
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| We gotta let this bitch off at you
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| We own you, huh, yeah
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| Ayo
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| Ayo, ayo, you broke niggas still wearing Giuseppe kicks
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| Twenty-five chains on, I’m on my heavy shit
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| Face tats, my jumper with the KAWS 4s
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| Dome shot up close, your shit gon' fall off
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| We the dopest, and the greatest, you niggas know it
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| My rhymes so wet, my mouth is Rolex
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| I drop tears in my Moët
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| The illest of all time, y’all just don’t know yet
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| Rocking Long John on the back porch, flip your whole jet
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| Fuck niggas took pictures standing over Boblo Blood
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| Diablo in the mud
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| God is my bodyguard
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| He wanted ten bricks, already hard
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| Flashlight on the K like a nigga lost
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| He grabbed the rope, almost broke the slab with the fifty one
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| Oww! |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Fifty One , by - Benny the Butcher. Song from the album Tana Talk 3, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп