Benny the Butcher - Fire in the Crib lyrics

Ever hit a nigga with some
Work and he dead you?
That ain't the same energy he
Had when he begged you
My crackhead uncle used to
Steal from his nephew
Now when he ask for cash I
Just say God bless you
Six figures a year offa pipes and addicts
But I could double that now
With one flight to Dallas
Rolled with a scale and weighed it out
Right in traffic i used to cop bad work
Because the price was average
Somebody get clipped
They think I paid for the bounty
Ask these record execs if I was
Paid 'fore they found me
Really getting the cake
Michigan plates on a Audi
To a nigga getting stocky eating
Trays in a county
Niggas spend they money on jewellery
Ain't knockin' 'em
They scary though, if it ain't a video
They ain't rockin' 'em
Private chef, New York strip
Steak and tilapia private jet
Did shit niggas ain't think was possible
Like I hit the lotto, spent the bag on a trip
Six or seven thousand just the tag on the fit
I sent her outta town with
Some cash and a kiss
So she don't even ask what
I stashed in the whip, mm
Real block boys gon' supply him in person
Ten niggas on one block tryna
Find 'em a purpose
So just to triple my chances
Went to hire some workers
Really ain't shit changed
They just buy 'em in verses
It's hard to sympathise when they tell
Me they feel like quittin'
Put in half the work I did but they
Want the cribs that I live in
They bought half the work I bought but
Still want the price that I'm gettin'
And I did everything but die just to
Live this life that I'm living
Honourable or militant
It's hard when your bands dwindling
My first robbery
I pointed my can with my hands trembling
Went from Super Bowl week every
Year to the stand snitching
Got half your childhood friends
Sitting in San Quentin
Break bread for what? I'm from
Where hoes willing to fuck
Long as you selling weight and
Ace spill in your cup
They get famous on Twitter and
Think they litter than us
But them lines ain't witty enough
My prices really went up
For bitches, y'all Rez Havens
Y'all niggas just spectators
I went hard and I came
Out sharp a Gillette razors
That disrespect paper and spin
A connect paper that's how you end up with a
Smile on your neck later
Since they wanna shine I'm
Coppin' them gold caskets
Y'all little bastards be so backwards
I'm old fashion had dope addicts
Plus my phone had coke traffic
I was good at more than
One sport like Bo Jackson

Plugs 2 nigga, yeah fire in the crib man
Fuck Covid, you know what I'm saying?
Long live every black king man
Long live George Floyd man
Long live Michael Jackson, Plugs 2
Long live Chine Gun, yeah charlie Sloth
You already know what it is man
Plugs 2, we on the way