Griselda, Charlie Sloth - Fire in the Booth, Pt. 1 lyrics

Put on my shoes, nah, my hammer was first
Bulletproof the whip I use
To take my grandma to church
I went gram for gram with the work
Hand-to hand on the first
Everybody who hatin' now was a
Fan of us first (Woo)
Ayy, look, underdog, what, hmm
What you wanna do?
Let's put a hundred more up, nigga
This summer all us
I'm in two whips, one a Tahoe, one a tour bus
Got so many straps with us
We could start a war up (yeah)
It's a real safe hazard if
You still yay traffick (M-m-m)
Show where that money comin' from
Still pay taxes (M-m-m)
The IRS comin' and they steal faith faster
Start a business in the building that
You still make racks in (M-m-m)


I learned from my losses
Stripes I earned from the bosses (yeah)
Whippin' deuces 'til them hoopties
Turned into Porsches (Talk to 'em)
I curve bitches often, lies
I heard bitches talkin', hah
She mines, a send a text back
These bird bitches stalkin' (Ha)
You gotta be careful
These hoes think they fancy
I just want my dick sucked
She wanna start a family (Ha ha haha)
She average, get her taxes, and go to Miami
But (Damn)
With this kind of status, I'll
Probably go to the Grammy's, huh
I know niggas hate me
I came out the trenches on some new shit
But some ways soundin' vintage (yeah)
PayPal or credit
Send that cake or you deaded
This the real definition
How you stay down and get it (yeah)
I'm the next Nasir if they judge us off skill
Got your bitch in the middle of Times Square
Lauryn Hill (Doot, doot, doot, doot, doot)
Told her my phone was dead
She wrote her number on the bill
(It's the Butcher)
Off White paint on my jacket
Look like a spill, huh
(Ugh) played last year
But watch the price shoot up (yeah)
All black
My entourage dress just like shooters (yeah)
You spend your life with her, me
I give a night to her (GxF)
'Cause Drake told these bitches they don't
Gotta be nice to us (M-m-m)
Thousand grams on a plate
That's what my preference was
So I had interviews with connects
Not the Breakfast Club, facts
He told me twenty-six
It was thirty before that
I heard he done scored that
You was dirty before rap, nigga

The motherfuckin' Butcher, nigga
It's big Griselda, niggaBig BSF in this shit
Nigga yeah, let me fix my
Motherfuckin' jewels right quick
I need to catch my drip, my stick
Fix your furniture look

I just bought a new four-fifth from my man
Just came from Atlanta, trunk full
He just got back from a road trip
Gave me two cartridges
Box of bullets for both clips
He said, "You better buy a couple more
They gon' be sold quick"
I said, "My nigga, when you slidin' off?"
'Cause I'ma do this jux tonight
Then I'm back tomorrow to buy 'em all
(M-m-m) uh, I took a loss
But now I'm back buyin' raw
Sell it for the Shaq
But I get it for the Bryan Shaw
Lettin' off this MAC
Got you niggas tryna climb a wall
I put the pressure on your
Shooters like Kawhi the Klaw (M-m-m)
And every verse, I'm applying more
Heard 6ix9ine testified
I ain't surprised at all (Fuck it)
We do the walk-ups, my nigga
We ain't drivin' by i brought Flee with me
And he been dyin' to slide
My nigga did twelve years
For lettin' iron fly
Left when he was 16, he came home Zion-sized
(M-m-m)
My doctor mad that I wouldn't let him operate
I bounced back and I just make
More money than my doctor make
Violate and you gettin' a surgeon
And a doctor date
I'm like a helicopter landin'
All the noise my chopper make
Ask if it's a problem
They won't answer me back
I'm courtside in Portland
Carmelo Anthony back
Really just came to see my plug
I go hand him the sack
I'm smilin' like Anderson Paak when
He hand me the packs, my nigga
(Ha ha ha)
Pull up in a gray spaceship, hop out
Pair of Asics told Flee, "You gon' be rich"
You just gotta stay patient
My bitch lookin' like a young Sanaa Lathan
Sittin' ringside watchin' Tank Davis
Johnny Dang chain bracelet
Niggas mad that I'm eatin' and
They can't take it
'Bout to drop my album and
The impact gon' shake pavement
If it's smoke
Four goons pull up with Ks wavin'
A lot of bullets thrown like
When Brady played Peyton (Woo)
Huh, rock this designer to my drawers
Niggas slidin' to the mall, but
Ain't findin' this Dior, nigga
We was in the trenches sellin'
China by the store
Window-watchin' in the trap
MAK 90 by the door (M-m-m)
In Houston, ridin' down Westheimer in the car
That cost more than what you signed for
Admire from afar if you niggas run up on me
Then I'm firin' this rod
Chopper set you fuck niggas on
Fire, I'm the God, nigga