Butcher Lords

Lyrics

Flee: 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 Benny: 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