Benny the Butcher, 38 Spesh - Thruway Music lyrics

Now I'm the reason that her heart is broken
I dogged her, left her without a quarter
And you bought her roses
I was cool with the robbers
I called 'em over
My first rollie- half price
I bought it stolen
I'm the nigga that your daughter chosen
I chose to put her on the road
With bricks in an automotive
I met a line, I had charges open
I was nervous, asked God for a sign
Then it started snowing
I seen a rare hustle God was showing
He put me inside of a
Haystack then I started sewing
The reason why they ribs started showing
I bought a four-bedroom house out west
And started growing
And I don't sell weed, I smoke it i'm lying
I'm just dealing with some
Problems with postage
I'm silent and focused, where they hopeless
Niggas did time, came home
Now they Pop Warner coaches
Gotta watch who you roll with
Feds been watching since '06
They heard what I profit from road trips
My block was explosive
And I had it locked in a closed fist
Trips to the tropics to go fish
Two watches and fo' whips
You own shit when you open safety
Deposit boxes wit yo prints
It's big money on the top of my phone list
If it wasn't for your moms
Then ya'll thots would be homeless
Told the waiter I like my
Filet not to be boneless
Sitting at the restaurant
Discussing properties closing
Ya'll mad, we got to be holding
I told ya'll we would be rich
That was prophecy spoken muthafucka!

It's my turn, we was all patient
From driving whole onions
Had the stove jumping and the floor shaking
None of my broads basic
My bitch taking trips to far places
In return, I take care of the car payment
So ya'll really think I left the streets?
They know the flow sick
Can see me posting pics when
I just left the beach
I'm still getting it, I'm just discrete nigga
I'm the extra link
Don't nothing move if it don't connect to me
My OG told me the game twisted
I said the drugs still selling
They just not going for the same ticket
This for my niggas upstate bidding
Weightlifting, and had spots jumping in LA
Like Blake Griffin
I wake up, and everyday Christmas
I'm Saint Nick-in
Break bricks and I got cookies
On my plate sitting
I was good, now I'm great with it
Block with no shake in it
Blender turn it to powder in eight minutes
I fuck with real killers
A lot of niggas shoot
Man this 40 prolly knock ya
Bitch out her Jimmy Choo
When the plug drop it off
He stop and parlay with me too
It's so strong I gotta cook
It with a biochemist suit
I left early cuz they ain't teach
Me common sense in school
They sold America dreams
But I was not convinced as you
Game come with profit, bitches, opposition
Coupes all kinda shit
It's obvious it's consequences too
And ever since I was little
I was in the loop
Turned my mother front porch
To a monumental stoop you remember me
And prolly hope that I remember you
But only faces that I know stuffed
In my pocket and they blue ah!