Benny the Butcher, Conway The Machine - All 70 lyrics

Yeah, uh if this don't wake the streets up
I don't know what will it's Benny
Griselda uh, this my life, nigga
I'm still front line
I'm still front line, nigga

Yo, I put the truth on every page I jotted
I slang narcotics from the steps of my crib
My mom complained about it (For real)
I weighed my options
Persuaded by the chains and watches
Only if you saved your profit
You obtain them objects (Gotta stash that)
Shoeboxes to bank deposit's
And I'm thankful, honest
(I'm thankful) uh, 'cause I'm to my city
Probably what Dre to Compton (Real shit)
We started off gram coppers
Now we land shoppers
Rubber bands poppin' in my
Balmain pants pocket
First I opened up a trap
Then I franchised it (And another one)
Taking chances with the niggas I
Played with in sandboxes (My day ones)
My flow street, smart, and toxic
Life of a vet, Griselda, write us a check
We get your brand profit (Spend that money)
They gon' label us the greatest regardless
(Regardless)
We been through worse conditions so
That made us the hardest, uh
These niggas aiming like that
Made us a target (Stop it)
Bag full of straps, that's like
Two hundred pages of charges, uh
(We got big shit)

I'm riding with my fourth felony
(My fourth felony)
I know niggas with bodies who talk pleasantly
(Talk pleasantly)
It's fifty in the drum, twenty in the SIG
(Add it up)
And if I'm lucky, you catching all seventy
(All seventy)
(Uh, brrra, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot
Doot, Boom, boom, boom, boom, boom
Boom) Catching all seventy
(Brrra) It's fifty in the drum
Twenty in the
SIG (Brrra, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom
Boom) you catching all seventy
(Doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot)

Look, still spit it the hardest
Ain't nothing changed (Changed)
I drink a cup of pain
While I fluff the 'caine
You a sucker and a lame
We ain't the fucking same (You pussy)
A rapper mention my name
I'ma bust his brain (Boom, boom)
Yeah, every nigga from my block a savage
Rob and poppin' ratchets, droppin' caskets
We are not your average (Griselda, nigga)
I got shot in my top but
It ain't stop the passion
I just got up and got shit poppin'
I kept droppin' classics (Facts)
Eight hundred for my Versace glasses
Teaching my youngins how to
Break up the bricks, call it karate classes
(Ha)
Drop the top on the Aston out in Calabasas
(Vroom) bitch ass so fat
She hopped out and it stopped the traffic
(Ha ha ha) huh, I was just at NOBU
Eating lobster with Jasmine
Racks and pocket diamonds in
The watch was flashing (You see me baby)
Talking crazy, nigga
I know how to stop the madness (Uh, huh)
I'ma just have El Camino pop his cabbage
(Brrrt) they ain't give me shit when they
Was wrapping blocks in plastic (Uh, uh)
Now they hurting and I'm up
They had to watch it happen (Ah)
Get out of pocket, nigga, watch what happens
Choppers blasting (Brrrt)
Shots not stopping 'til your
Top is splashing (Facts)
Griselda, we 'bout to lock this shit
It's funny how niggas hating on my
Accomplishments but ain't accomplished shit
(Dumb-ass niggas)
See, I'm a real nigga and you the opposite
The whole summer, my young boys chopping shit
Griselda, nigga (Grrrt)

I'm riding with my fourth felony
(My fourth felony)
I know niggas with bodies who talk pleasantly
(Talk pleasantly)
It's fifty in the drum, twenty in the SIG
(Add it up)
And if I'm lucky, you catching all seventy
(All seventy)
(Uh, brrra, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot
Doot, Boom, boom, boom, boom, boom
Boom) Catching all seventy
(Brrra) It's fifty in the drum
Twenty in the
SIG (Brrra, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom
Boom) you catching all seventy
(Doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot)

It's fifty in the drum, twenty in the SIG
And if I'm lucky, you catching all seventy
Woo
It's fifty in the drum, twenty in the SIG
Nigga, you catching all seventy