Benny the Butcher — .762

[Intro] Uh, Yeah It's Benny (right) Ayo Conway, feel like, feel like I got these niggas in my scope right now [Verse 1] Uh, fuck the fame we only came for the bread Told my homie it’s a bonus if you aim for the head You point a gun at him he gon' say that ain't what he said Plus the clip in it long as Wilt Chamberlain leg Lost some homies, spent a couple birthdays in the feds I met plugs, not just thugs, I met Haitians in dreads You know the kicks that I’m lacing are red You blazing up reg, tension thick You tasting the air, I'm blatant, you scared Ridin' out for my team, watching out for the D's You ever stashed work in a house full of fiends? You niggas just rapping, I'm about everything Need shooters and captains when you scouting a team Time is money, and I'mma need an hour or more I leave the trap smelling like gunpowder and raw I'm having nightmares they raiding, huddled out in the hall Same time I was flushing, they was pounding the door When you try'na get shit, you ain’t used to having Might run into some problems, might use some ratchets Might run into some cops, wearing suits and badges Never speak on what you saw, if you do you ratting Real legend, and I’m still plugged in with criminals You catch a case, pray the judge give a minimal I send it through your loved ones when they visit you I live in a town where the love ain't reciprocal [Hook] Rock your enemy to sleep like the drama dead Then walk up on him in a Rasta wig Who held the city down like a boat anchor I got smokers in the room burning coat hangers Smoking on sour, mixed with cookies Revenge is the sweetest joy next to getting pussy I treated the kitchen like chemistry We unwrap em then we bag em individually [Verse 2] My intentions was good but the money was evil I’m Bugsy Siegel cutting diesel, laying up in casinos I got a hundred clips a hundred straps, none of em legal Tell on you, brick of C4 under your Regal Hey since I seen Nino, shooting out with them Guidos We go to weddings, and got on vestes under tuxedos You the type to get your shit took and run to a CO I'm the type to get your shit pushed and run to Toledo It's like I was, bred to be great, so this bread could get baked Or your head I just take, my hand on this 8, like a man out his Bape These rap niggas get more weird by the day I wake up like. what the fuck I'm gon’ hear bout today I was still in the hood serving fiends like CVS Wit a bracelet on my ankle that's a GPS They ain't beat me yet, fans still ain't meet me yet James Bond hopping out that Aston Martin DBS When you being mentioned with the baddest who spittin' Average niggas hating, ain't you so they had you the villain Mad in they feelings, probably cus' the talent ain't in em Not only that though, the passion ain't in em Take it from me, look My life way deeper than bars and hooks Pawns and rooks, this shit really hard as it look If these walls could talk, they'd tell you how the raw was cooked And how we got to be stars from crooks My first brick, uh [Hook] Rock your enemy to sleep like the drama dead Then walk up on him in a Rasta wig Who held the city down like a boat anchor I got smokers in the room burning coat hangers Smoking on sour, mixed with cookies Revenge is the sweetest joy next to getting pussy I treated the kitchen like chemistry We unwrap em then we bag em individually [Outro] Yeah You already know nigga You already know walls closing in on niggas man Yeah It's me It's me I ain't tellin' my story in third person Naw I'm hands on I'm hands on my nigga Yeah