Benny the Butcher - Sly Green lyrics

Uh huh the Butcher comin', nigga
Yeah, uh (Hit-Boy)

I'm a Christian Dior shirt rocker
Two Glock wearer
Only rapper that would've thrived
In the 2Pac era
I'm talkin' '98 drug money, shoebox era
(Shoebox era)
I proved my point once, in every take
The proof got clearer
Y'all niggas make threats
(Huh) , we pay killers and take bets
Fuck with us and end up bad
Like dope you can't stretch (Hah)
Twenty somethin' years in it and
Ain't make a mistake yet
If you ain't spendin' half an M
Ain't no way to relatе yet mob ties
I'll prick your finger bеfore I connect you
(Gang) i know some niggas that rather kill
You before they respect you (Ah)
And fuck rap
Me and my niggas sold boy as professionals
They say it's time to eat
Again on this Oyster Perpetual
Scars on my body still
(Still) they think I signed
Illuminati deals (Illuminati deals)
'Cause this paper talkin' to me
Like it's Johnny Gill
I push weight like I bodybuild (Bodybuild)
I let the bitch slide
Her attitude fake but her body real
(Let's go) i'm on point when my enemies not
I shoot with nobody 'round me
Like a penalty shot (Boom, boom, boom, boom)
When niggas' traps was warmin' up
Mines was literally hot (Mines was hot)
The promotin' I did, Pyrex should
Be givin' me pots, yeah
That's how you handle business (Business)
Got my name in the Guinness (Guinness)
Records, next to ballers and
Retired drug dealers
Side note, I'm the realest
(Uh, uh) , signin' off, Mister Pennick
This money ain't change shit
I'm gangsta from start to finish (Let's go)

It's blood on the money, blood on my hands
(On my hands)
It's blood on the money, blood on my hands
(On my hands)
It's blood on the money, blood on my hands
(On my hands)
It's blood on the money, blood on my hands
(On my hands)

Yeah, triple black tints on the Caddy
What you know about bein' out in the Valley?
The plug ask you for an addy (Huh?)
I broke bread in the middle of war
Y'all took breaks
For a bid and a couple shootouts
I look great (Uh, hahaha)
I ain't with no rap beef
It's Fs on my rap sheet
At eighteen, I had the trap bumpin' like acne
Niggas want the formula
Griselda's the factory
You need a million dollars and an
Army tank just to match me (What's poppin'?)
Dior, my new habit, lawyers in suit jackets
I'm eatin', with a lot on my plate
So I chew faster i'm an old hustler but
I'm rich as these new rappers (New niggas)
I'm the Butcher so these new
Ratchets like two hatchets (Butcher comin')
You got rumors on your name
I got shooters in my gang
I was a mover of the 'caine, you know
Pursuin' to the fame
Y'all comparin' me to niggas?
(Huh) That's abusive to my name
I sold the dope to 'em
Then I watch 'em shoot it in they veins
With my real niggas
This what bein' live means (Live means)
I need a spread in Don
Diva like I'm Sly Green (Like I'm Sly Green)
I need a long run in Vegas like I'm Don King
(Uh) until then
I'ma follow these Bentley high beams
(Let's go) the Butcher comin', nigga