Money Man, Benny the Butcher - Overload lyrics

Talkin' numbers on my phone
Realness in my chromosomes
Pickin' up another load
Buying GALA, staking CRO
Can't front him 'cause his trap too slow
Weighin' bags up, watch him blow
Crazy how a nigga turn
On you if you tell him no
You can't get caught lackin'
In these streets, you gotta stay on go
Man, these niggas fruity, boy
Don't make me split your cantaloupe tell me
How can niggas enjoy livin' when
They out here dead broke?

Tesla, Dodge, switchin' whips
Crypto, trap, I double dip
Only stock magazines
We ain't doin' aftermarket clips
Shorty got a crazy body, I love her face
I love her hips
Should I take the plug off? Right now
I'm on the fencе
We gon' crush our competition
We thе wrong ones to go against
I know Keisha gon' be right there if I
Sit down and I do a stint
I can't say the same for none of
These hoes 'cause these hoes temporary
I'm pushin' this Maybach right now
Even though it's January
I know lil' bro'll never fold
Shooter ain't gon' never fold
Just 'cause it glitter don't mean it's gold
Make sure you pay me what I'm owed
My trap jumpin' like a toad
Trackhawk fuckin' up the road
The price gon' dump on this
Coin tomorrow, 'cause right now
This shit oversold
Too many strains inside the
'partment right now, this is our overload
I'm just tryna take the globe
Right now, bitch, I'm in that mode
Blowin' up, I might explode hODL, gotta hold
Buy the dip, don't never FOMO
Need them racks, I need 'em pronto

Talkin' numbers on my phone
Realness in my chromosomes
Pickin' up another load
Buying GALA, staking CRO
Can't front him 'cause his trap too slow
Weighin' bags up, watch him blow
Crazy how a nigga turn on you
If you tell him no
You can't get caught lackin'
In these streets, you gotta stay on go
Man, these niggas fruity, boy
Don't make me split your cantaloupe (yeah)
Tell me, how can niggas enjoy livin' when
They out here dead broke? (yeah, uh)

Real niggas inspire me
Just pages out my diary
I waited for it, finally, it's my turn
The irony i used to be fed up
With this rap shit entirely (I was done)
A few million later
I'm still a menace to society
The streets need trappers and
These beats need classics
And if hate like promotion
I guess my street team rappers (Nigga)
I'm good, you make a call, I make a call
Then look out 'cause them bricks comin'
Just be waitin' outside in the
Front like your lift comin' (Huh?)
You made a few chips
But still ain't teachin' your clique nothin'
(Nothin') you can't fool my bitch
She know the Maybach the 600 (Rrr)
Rollies for the team, nigga
Only was a dream, nigga
Money out the streets ain't the
Same as a clean million
BET Awards show, I was used to court clothes
My crib got a courtyard, I'm courtside
Just formal my bitch not that regular
My watch not that normal
Jewels, I got a half on, mask on like Zorro
Every chance, I'ma ball when my manager call
You know I'm

Talkin' numbers on my phone
Realness in my chromosomes
Pickin' up another load
Buying GALA, staking CRO
Can't front him 'cause his trap too slow
Weighin' bags up, watch him blow
Crazy how a nigga turn on you
If you tell him no
You can't get caught lackin'
In these streets, you gotta stay on go
Man, these niggas fruity, boy
Don't make me split your cantaloupe tell me
How can niggas enjoy livin' when
They out here dead broke?