| Fuck
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| Ayo (Doot, doot)
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| Doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot
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| Ayo, Pyer Moss over the Mossberg (Ah)
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| For dark, we shoot 'em all first (Boom, boom, boom, boom, boom),
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| hand in hand crack commerce
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| Check out my arm work, my wrist work, Arm &Hammer the mixture
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| Lord (Lord, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom)
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| Ayo, peace seven, I had a fetish for the MAC-11s (Brr)
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| Since an adolescent (Brr), learnin' lessons, got my shot perfected
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| Eyes beheaded, cocaine pot fanatic
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| Fiends light up the static, fully loaded ratchets for action (Boom, boom, boom,
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| boom, boom)
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| Allah would never make another me (Ah)
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| Dropped the ki and whipped up another ki (Whip, ah)
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| Walk through fire blindfolded out the sea (Ah, out the sea)
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| The sun out, I might take the doors out the tester Jeep (Skrrt)
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| Word on the streets FLYGOD got the mean dope (Ah)
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| Fire out the nines or we can drag the speedboat (Brr, brr, brr)
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| Inshallah, it’s more clips in the peacoat
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| Bodyslam, two thousand grams, Steve Regal
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| Ayo, y’all don’t get it (Y'all don’t get it, fuck)
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| Y’all don’t get it (Y'all don’t get it, God is my bodyguard)
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| Ayo, Allah got me winnin' (Winnin', ah)
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| Allah got me winnin' (Allah got me winnin', keep all that tough shit)
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| I said y’all don’t get it (Y'all don’t get it, ah)
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| Y’all niggas don’t get it (Y'all niggas don’t get it)
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| Ayo, Allah got us winnin' (Allah got us winnin', fuck 'em, ah)
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| Allah got us winnin' (Allah got us winnin', look, look, ah)
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| I heard they gave him ten years, he did a stretch, nigga cut his face
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| Put a zipper on him like a pair of new Giuseppe’s
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| Terrible, they say, «Machine, them niggas scared of you», I bet
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| Bitches think I’m vegetarian, these carats on my neck (Hahaha)
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| I’m wearin' 'em with respect, I want your chain, I’ll tear it from your neck
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| I’m from the eastside, them niggas over there be movin' Fent' (We outside)
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| Air at you, bitch, this God right here, I’m in the flesh
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| I put the bitch in a pair of Loubs, she fresh, I’m wearin' Louis sweats (Ha)
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| Look, how can I not win?
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| At least three of the albums that I dropped in your top ten (Talk to 'em)
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| Your wrist «tick-tick», boy, the hand on my watch spin
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| Not in Cali' to shop, I came to send a box in
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| I stacked two hundred during quarantine, I did not spend
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| I do not got friends, V12 on the side of that drop Benz (Woo)
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| Shooters on go, let a slug blam you (Uh huh)
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| And all morning, lil' homie passin' out drug s&les
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| My bitch don’t rock no Fashion Nova shit or no Ugg sandals
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| Like to fuck me to Pandora, 42 Dugg channels (Hahahaha)
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| Spaghetti on my wrist, nigga (You see my wrist)
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| Baguettes on my bitch, nigga (Talk your shit, nigga, yeah)
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| And bitches say, «There go that nigga with the bag», they know I’m really a
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| rich nigga (Talk your shit, king)
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| Suck my dick, nigga
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| You know it’s gangster how I rock, when you greet me, respect me (Salute me)
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| Yeah, I’m made in my hood, niggas treat me like Lefty (That's right)
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| I swear this brick spoke, and said «Take it easy, don’t stretch me"(I won’t)
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| Your favourite rapper call around, sayin' «Please, come protect me"(Pussy)
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| Yeah, we can see you up, but them niggas around you starvin' (Damn)
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| Put my team in position, now I’m surrounded with bosses
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| Niggas gettin' clipped, homicide questionin' my involvement (I don’t know shit)
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| Hashin' out at the jeweller, y’all buyin' shit in instalments
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| Patience, know it or not, now glaciers froze in the watch (Uh)
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| Bought my bitch a whip and she tried to race me home from the lot
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| Christian and Smith and Wesson, 380 go with the top
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| Hit her with the ice cubes and the dope gon' go in the shop (Huh)
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| I’m relaxin' on six figures, trap been doin' numbers
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| Couple hundred from rap I’m payin' taxes on
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| Twenty Ps of Butcher’s Breath, habits that I shouldn’t have kept (Uh uh)
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| Dumpin' while I’m in my head countin' how many bullets left (Bullets left)
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| Cannon my ride, we never been in shit and do not slide
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| The opps get it in two days or less like Amazon Prime
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| You gon' hear the Butcher comin' (Butcher comin'), 'cause it’s never gon' change
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| I came to smoke everything just like '07 Wayne (Uh) |
Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song The Butcher and The Blade, artist - Westside Gunn. Album song WHO MADE THE SUNSHINE, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп