Flee Lord, Benny the Butcher - Butcher Lords lyrics

Brr, Lord let me catch my drift, ah

Roll a big chopper
While the ride getting wiped down
The white I got right now
Will turn your wife light-brown
Fried rice and picken wings
Islam writes a different thing
Bust it on the countertop
Your moms trying to lick it clean (damn)
This that Calderón (Frank meth goth fish?)
Type shit so much that
My friend's getting (right wrists?)
Three AM on the corner
I’ll be standing like this
On the real? You're the nail
That the hammer might hit
(Brr) We the Loyalty or Death dog
It's more than a slogan (yup)
Violate the terms, bro
Your jaw’s getting broken
Y'all are party for the weekend
Straws in the ocean
Hoarse coarse is the commotion
Slow pourin' up some lotion (come here lord)
Pardon a jacuzzi-shit
Foggin' up some Gucci's
Need a bed and a pussy enough to suit me
In the kitchen with The Butcher
Benny fixing up some cooked stuff (Lord)
Trying to kick the door
We gon' hit you while ya foot up (boom)
Bars for the high
Getting charged for your lives
Quit massaging the ride, that go from my side
Cause nowadays niggas getting parked
By their pride clouthunters outfront
While the smart boy's inside

You know I only fuck with my niggas
You know what I mean?
I don't fuck with those niggas
Because those niggas’ not my niggas!
Yo, haha

Twinnies’ got my block popping (a huh)
Album's got my stock rising
Before police state, we saved grace
Over hotpockets, uh (I fathered)
The word at the bureau (uh)
I got out free, and I’m thorough (facts)
Pushed that dope-money and ran them with
I go spoil my little girl (get at Flee nigga)
They rolled up in them Accuras
And there I was imagining
And years later them packages
Turned us into manufacturers (that rock)
I stand and watch paid rich-niggas go broke
They wasn't stacking it (how you do that?)
Start relaxing and got knocked with
A book full of adresses (uhh)
You be with the linked kids
I be with the bosses in offices
With the big wigs (that's right)
Torture you where your bitch lives
(that's right)
They say I need my head scanned
Was quiet as a dead man
Walking in and out of Def Jam
Like me and Paul best friends (hahaha)
Married the game
And split the money with the best man
(it’s your boy)
Walked up in Saxon's and spent
Three racks on headbands
(on headbands nigga)
I don't play it sweet with these rappers
I never met, fam (who you?)
Say you used to sleep by your ratchet
Now what's a pen-pen (Brr)
Pussy (duh duh duh)
The Butcher coming nigga! Hah
Ayo Flee, you know how we do nigga
(whad up my nigga)
Griselda, The Loyalty or Death
(whad up my nigga) the Mobb Up, BSF nigga
You know how this shit go nigga let's go