Rick - Benny the Butcher

I just want what’s mine

You understand that, right?

Cool, we shouldn’t have no problems then

Griselda

Look, woo

Rapped a year in Trues, stack and making moves

My young niggas tossing caps like they just graduated school

Look, you put a little in the stash and play it cool

There’s only one rule, the niggas with the cash make the rules

You know us, bag full of grips and ammo

Plugged in with immigrants who sell bricks and sandals

It’s a difference from risk and gambles

I do this for the 5 foot chandelier over the big piano

Shooters all in red, they do it all for bread

Brought me back your hat, they said they blew it off your head

Cuffed to a killer, green uniform and dreads

Only way to get free now is chewing off your leg

I sat with the kings, and ate with the peasants

5'9, slept in a cell 8 by 11

It’s not one thing 'bout my name you can question

It ain’t really much you can say 'bout a legend

Think about it, 18, by that age I’m a felon

My name in the paper «Crime Wave» was the headings

They ain’t give us leverage

We got sports, entertainment, and stretching

I’m just workin' on my aim with this weapon

What you tryna cop?

You can buy it here

We got a spot, so the dope fiends can try it here

Uh, Versace shirt with the lion head

It’s my brick, so when the pie split, I get the lion’s share

Uh, I turned a half into one (Into one, one)

Then heard the money counter run (I heard the money counter run)

Uh, ashes falling off the blunt (Off the blunt)

While the money counter run (While the money counter run)

Yeah, we just wanna have fun (We having fun)

And hear the money counter run (I heard the money counter run)

Yeah, I’m in the middle of the slums (I'm in the hood)

Letting the money counter run (Letting the money counter run)

Yo, they say I’m guilty by association

Niggas got open cases and coke for acres

New York Giants, Oakland Raiders

Niggas unload the banger, empty in broad day, to show they faces

Pictures of Black Jesus hanging on the wall

Do not disturb sign hanging on the door

You ain’t ever buy a gun and shave the numbers off

And had the strip so hot, made you take the summer off

When I pull up, I’m only with hoes and shooters

Play cloth fit, Versaces with the gold medusa

The speculation beneath me, ain’t no assuming

My reputation precedes me, I owed them rumors

Gold bottle of Ace, and a half of sour

Flew her here just to fuck me for a half an hour

Fuck school, I couldn’t sit up in that class for hours

Needed cash in the spot where I could stash the powder

Left the 9, took the 40 'cause the blast was louder

I heard your shit ghost-writ' that take the passion out it

Only bitches with ass allowed in, you can ask about us

The watch face got glass around it, uh

Bad Spanish broad named KK

Stars in the roof that’s the Wraith way

Used to sell a G-pack before a day break

Don’t ever fuck around with us, that’s the safe way

Uh, I turned a half into one (Into one, one)

Then heard the money counter run (I heard the money counter run)

Uh, ashes falling off the blunt (Off the blunt)

While the money counter run (While the money counter run)

Yeah, we just wanna have fun (We having fun)

And hear the money counter run (I heard the money counter run)

Yeah, I’m in the middle of the slums (I'm in the hood)

Letting the money counter run (Letting the money counter run)