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jermanie’s graduation - benny the butcher lyrics
[intro]
all eyes on me, yeah
you know what i mean, everybody can’t go
this sh*t sound like some ‘pac sh*t
this for us, man, this ain’t for everybody (classic sh*t)
nah, i do this sh*t, i’ll stand on that sh*t, man
eastside boys, you know what it is, everybody can’t go
buffalo, eastside though
black soprano family, big griselda
y’all know my name, y’all watched what i did with this
i don’t need a trophy
i am the trophy, i be telling n*ggas
yo
[verse]
there’s a story behind that name when they call me the pyrex man
like them two bricks from doug and papis from kazakhstan
i never sold meth but i know fent’, a thousand yams
you odin’ off this sh*t if you bag and don’t wash your hands
me, teary*eyed and gullible, i lived it with a mother
who struggled through addiction, i know еvery side to drug abuse
‘forе life got this comfortable, it’s been a few n*ggas
who still in they same position because our bond indestructible
it go both ways, auntie spent a thirty on that rock
and the n*gga who served her owe a plug who thirsty for that knot
the dealer who fronted that birdie, he murdered for that guap
that was me, but now i’m currently trading currency for stocks
i’m wall street*butchering, i’m getting thirty percent off top
forty percent get chopped, other thirty? back in the pot
ask these rappers, sh*t i did for upstate just helped make ’em hot
when i invite ’em to the lab, they be scared to play what they got
i’m the don of all dons, ysl and bond no. 9
living proof, sign of the times that hate won’t bother your grind
i feel like west’ on “gustavo,” the c*cky confident side
you look a k!ller in their face ’cause they say their eyes still don’t lie
i’m hearing rumors start to fly that we split the triangle, nah
any talks of that’s maniacal but y’all buy it though, why?
i’m still that same hustler, fresh out the ps that sign on the spot
i guess i stepped on a few rappers on my climb to the top
who sliding? invited or not, the violence won’t stop
we on that same time and them irons gon’ c*ck then them sliding doors pop
my n*ggas catch you at that light then light up your drop
it’s like that, the last opp we racked, we united the block
long roads to success, they hearts broke when i step
they reminiscin’ of me, speakin’ in morse code to connects
me and my homies passport bros, pilots load up the jets
gulfstreams landing in time zones no one expects, mm
chip in on jet fuel, the flight i slept through
i just need a shot of tequila and bluetooth i can connect to
it’s disrespectful to sit these n*ggas next to butch
so i’m sh*tting around these p*ssies just like a all*gender restroom
trips to bahamas, y’all talking sh*t from the comments
i’m somewhere off the coast smoking cartridges with my mama
it’s butch, i did it solid, turned visions to dollars
seven*year run, three away from that ten that i promised y’all
on “one way flight,” brick rawer than monday night
i always been the bigger fish, y’all skinny pimps like money mike
still no license, running lights, i let you pick—the gun or knife
chase said there’s no one as nice and that n*gga was f*cking right
so f*ck you twice, it’s butch
[outro]
big butch
you know how we do this, know what i mean?
the streets still belong to us
yeah, big boys
griselda, black soprano family, ah!
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