Benny the Butcher - .762 lyrics

Uh, yeah it's Benny
Ayo Conway, feel like
Feel like I got these niggas
In my scope right now

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 suit's 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

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

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

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

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