Benny the Butcher and Smoke DZA - Bullets (feat. Conway the Machine)
We all got rawI got tree, Benny the pastry man
Soon as the package touch Ima make these scram
Once you get yours it went through 18 hands
Pull up your block in the A-Team van
Hannibal Smith big cigars on hand
B.A. Baracus couple chains no scams
Your hustle game shakey fam
Your numbers outdated can't fake these fans
Fuck notoriety in the minor league
?? to the critics in its entirety
Money inspires me
Tracking the box the only thing that give me anxiety
I got something for you if you unemployed
This loud pack hit like 100 Floyds
Animal status making tons of noise
Bunch of lions and apes smoking Jungle Boys
You ain't bout no gun action stop woofing
N***as shoot diss tracks we shot bullets
Made 5K on the corner and the cops took it
But you can tell by my wrist I gave the pot whoopings
You ain't bout no gun action stop woofing
N***as shoot diss tracks we shot bullets
Made 5K on the corner and the cops took it
But you can tell by my wrist I gave the pot whoopings
Said a silent prayer my hands laid on the bible
Then drove a 20-year sentence straight through Ohio
I was barely out of High School when buying weight
On the way to prison, I looked my mom in her crying face
Left the trap with money counters and a candle burning
Fuck n***as I'll be good as long as this hammer working
I'm still cordial with the bosses and the workers
And I'm this way on Instagram and in person
The players change but the game won't
The money came late so I stayed woke
Talents took me to Dallas
Amigo got me established
I'm in a race with the Opps to see who get rich the fastest
BSF n***a
You ain't bout no gun action stop woofing
N***as shoot diss tracks we shot bullets
Made 5K on the corner and the cops took it
But you can tell by my wrist I gave the pot whoopings
You ain't bout no gun action stop woofing
N***as shoot diss tracks we shot bullets
Made 5K on the corner and the cops took it
But you can tell by my wrist I gave the pot whoopings
N***as shooting these disses they ain't a real threat
2 bodies, tell me who we got to peel next
Rapping about your imaginary guns we got real Techs
I pull up with that F and shoot a movie like I'm Little X
200 pounds in my basement and they still fresh
I'm still hustling like I ain't got a deal yet
My wrist and my bitch pussy real wet
And its a Sting Ray when I pull up in that teal 'Vette
Yeah, I'm thanking God for this key of coke
Paranormal driveway you gon see a Ghost
You gon see a Wraith, you gon see a Mulsanne
Cullinan, Lambo truck you gon see em both
I mean if we talking bread you gon see a loaf
I keep it close, look at us wrong you gon be approached
I been getting money boy I ain't used to being broke
N***as ain't fucking with Benny the Butcher, Me, and Smoke
It ain't even close...
You ain't bout no gun action stop woofing
N***as shoot diss tracks we shot bullets
Made 5K on the corner and the cops took it
But you can tell by my wrist I gave the pot whoopings
You ain't bout no gun action stop woofing
N***as shoot diss tracks we shot bullets
Made 5K on the corner and the cops took it
But you can tell by my wrist I gave the pot whoopings
Written by:
Smoke Dza, Benny The Butcher
Publisher:
Lyrics © Reservoir Media Management, Inc.
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