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murder for glory - benny the butcher lyrics

[verse 1]
my city don’t got a tourist side
.45 toters and drug dealers with foreign rides
war with guys we know, the price of life insurance high
n*ggas dead and more gon’ die and that’s the sh*t we glorify
my criminal ties organized
boring rhymes never impressed us i bet your story lies
i can’t make up how i’m saw through my daughters eyes
or how i can’t sleep unless my front door fortified
my only advice is don’t ignore the signs
when you see the b*tch in a n*gga we all thought would ride
we used to rock hilfiger when we was corner guys
now it’s like real n*ggas against the corny guys
i left school and made trap a profession
i still slide with that stick like aleks ovetsjkin
the cops pull up on us like they wanna ask us some questions
they jump out, throw us on the ground, harass and arrest us
i look myself in the mirror i see the past and the present
me being passive agressive that only adds to the pressure
but i ain’t ducking no smoke
they come i’m grabbing this weapon
shots burn when they hit you but only last a few seconds
before dispatch can be called, your soul be passing through heaven
and eulogies all the same, you can ask a few reverends
you get what you give, i put that on my b*tch and two kids
they don’t know how risky it is to stash a brick where you live
don’t glorify this life
[verse 2]
it’s funny how n*ggas flow never fit they ego
they convince their people but never let that sh*t mislead you
only time they around bricks is when they miss a freethrow
them young n*ggas gon’ shoot for me like i’m rick pitino
i’m dope
like the sh*t in the tip of needles
little fly b*tch with me drive like vin diesel
she stash guns, blow d*ck and take trips with kilos
save some chips and got her ass fixed in rio
look, now look what they made me
a product of the crooks in the 80s
from the risks that we took on the daily
i don’t f*ck with rappers, they p*ss and they lazy
and when you tell them real sh*t they look at you crazy
one of the last n*ggas you can really believe
only mentioning things that i really achieve
it really was me, grinding when the city was sleep
to get the maserati truck with the amphibian seats
all n*ggas do is pay attention to females
i’m different though, i pay attention to details
spoke to my dog in the feds, he said he eat well
and he don’t talk on phones so he gon’ send me an email
my man asked me this
“b, why you keep sparing n*ggas? your spot solidified, so how you gon’ share it with em?”
it ain’t fair to n*ggas, so careful who you comparing with us
the era different, shoes the same i just wear ’em different
i respect the culture but the tec the vulture
rap n*ggas who give neck for the best exposure
man, these rappers get a pass
i don’t flex for social media cause it ain’t beef until this tec explodin’
when you married to the game, you married to the d’s, you married to the hustlers, you married to the fiends
in the bed with snakes, married the enemies
shooting back and forth like larry and kareem
got that chinegun news when i was buried in the beam
in the cell i cried, hysterically and grieved
why that counsellor decide it was unfair for me to leave
would have hit that funeral like we was burying a king
don’t glorify this life

- benny the butcher lyrics

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