Benny the Butcher, Westside Gunn - Fifty One lyrics

We gonna slow things down and
Take it back in time yeah, uh
We gon’ make niggas feel like this shit yo

Smoking grapes and went to war
With a poker face
Load the eight, get the drop
Then we unload your safe
I used to pitch on my corner late
Fifth on my bulging waist
Way back in those flip Motorola days
We street niggas in the race for millions
I ate with dealers
I’m straight ‘cause my face familiar
I’m from a place where we trap
And sell weight from buildings trust me
This not a place you
Wanna raise your children
Nah, we don’t sell zips
The plug wholesale bricks
And got the crib with more
Rooms than a motel six
We roll Ls thick with gas
So that dope smell stick
Heard they said it was they year
But that boat sell quick
Fuck riding in a nigga’s coattails, shit
What you know about facing that 5 to 40
But don’t tell shit oh well
It’s the most real when the pro scale is
Like old mist, stopping the Giants
I’m on my Odell shit
You tryna see how many cops I can outrun
Never been outgunned
But niggas still doubted the outcome
Your favorite rap nigga about done
And I’m still front line
I put a half in the pot and pull out one
These niggas talking gunplay
But they not about none
Went down for a home invasion
Soon as the drought come
Top of the line hustle, you not one of mine
Fuck you i got this hunger from
Watching my mom struggle i been harder
Legend that still'll shoot like Vince Carter
I’m nasty, my flow dirtier than Flint water
And being broke was a big problem
So I whipped quarters fell back
The trap bubbled up like dish water
Collect all payment or I’m
Just gon’ spray shit
Put a bullet on your hat
Like Just Don snakeskin
They said I’d be a loser and a failure
From where they usually’ll jail you
BENNY THE BUTCHER shooter for Griselda, nigga
Uh, shooter for Griselda, nigga
I’m a shooter for Griselda, nigga
From where they usually’ll jail ya
Benny the Butcher, shooter for Griselda

Ah, yeah got sticks with us, nah mean?
Doot doot doot doot doot doot doot doot
Doot doot doot doot doot doot doot doot
Sticks got 50 in ‘em
Doot doot doot doot doot doot doot doot
Doot doot doot doot doot doot doot doot
We gotta beg, we gotta beg you little
We gotta let this bitch off at you
We own you, huh, yeah ayo

Ayo, ayo
You broke niggas still wearing Giuseppe kicks
Twenty-five chains on, I’m on my heavy shit
Face tats, my jumper with the KAWS 4s
Dome shot up close, your shit gon’ fall off
We the dopest, and the greatest
You niggas know it
My rhymes so wet, my mouth is Rolex
I drop tears in my Moët
The illest of all time
Y’all just don’t know yet
Rocking Long John on the back porch
Flip your whole jet
Fuck niggas took pictures standing
Over Boblo Blood diablo in the mud
God is my bodyguard
He wanted ten bricks, already hard
Flashlight on the K like a nigga lost
He grabbed the rope
Almost broke the slab with the fifty one

Oww!