Jasmine’s

Lyrics

[Intro] (Summertime Butch) [Verse 1: Westside Gunn] Ayo, power drove the fiend up the stove in Garçon If you need me, l be in my cell on the phone Jorts KAPITALs, you see the bones, I'm in the Rolls (Skrrt) Might be the first drug dealer on the Vogue Mule panicking, cause she late, I told her, "Andalé" Maison Miharas with the scuffs all through Lama Ray (Ah) My Benz steering wheel on the right, shooter on the left The first who make 'em overdose, dope be the best Goyard satchеls with the blick, leaving out the Ritz Chips and lеase on the shopping spree, just me and your bitch (Woo) I bought me everything, I ain't buy her shit Hermes crocodile sandals stepping on a brick (SUPER FLYGOD) Thirty-six to forty-four, shit, more is more My man mom died, he in the cell, when it rains, it pours [Interlude: Benny the Butcher] You must be a very wealthy man Well, I ain't got no squawk, no squawk at all Do you have any feelings on remorse about being in this business? No, I have no feelings of conscious, because To me, it's a business The same as the man with a liquor store He sells his whiskey to alcoholics To him, it's a business I sell my drugs to drug addicts It's all a profit Ahh, yeah, yeah, yo, uh [Verse 2: Benny the Butcher] 'Fuck is the state of rap? Same shit they've been trying to act since Pac died And B.I.G. left and the gang went a lil' lop side on the pop side And not cry, it's elementary that you add some entries to your top five 'Cause evidently l'm in my prime Doing better than them who done got signed But it cost me, how else can I put it? They forced me, bullets and coffee I cheated the game, it felt good as adultery Asked the last label, l'm a rap saver I'm a cash major, l'm a mad strangler I'm a cash cow and a stack saver We could chat now, or we could chat later I made my wrist lock Then made a movie 'bout it like the black Alfred Hitchcock Interrogation room I be so quiet in it that you might hear a pin drop What's the state of rap? Same shit they've been trying to act since Will Smith And Jazzy Jeff, I sold real bricks, I still don't got no real hits But cocaine still give thrills, white girl, real "Kill Bill" shit I get chills when I close deals Made a quarter mil' off some chill shit I get the pill, I'm tryna bang like I'm O'Neal You just Josh Childress I show you jits 'round the money I'll take you lil' niggas on a field trip Got a Yachtmaster on a yacht Nigga we are not rappers, all the cops past them And they drop faster than a time traveler And my watch flashing like I'm arm-wrestling But you like the senior, with bad grades And I'm the dean, I'm thinking why cap ya Couch potato with an iPad and a mic so, now, you a podcaster They hit they ceilings, I'm booked in Paris Let's get to business (Let's get to business) Two-hundred fifty in hundreds to count it It take her ten minutes (Maybe eight) Fuck is the state of rap? Same shit they've been trying to act since Eazy-E Only street niggas gon' agree with me I'm just a rich nigga with a GED [Outro: Benny the Butcher] Big Butch, ah