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Black Soprano Family, Benny the Butcher, & Rick Hyde•Audio Oficial (YouTube API)

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Ah the Butcher comin', nigga

We gotta turn this shit up

I’m the one I'm the nigga

That all these niggas wanna

Be, they ain't gon’ say

Nothin' on they records, though

Rah, ayy, look

Ask about Butch, I'm everywhere

But back home, i'm heavy here

For Christmas I'm gettin 'all my

Bitches Chrome Heart teddy bears

Heavy stares for niggas who chasin'

Numbers that I already cleared

I'm already here, i took over a game they

Shouldn’t have let me near

And I been dope since LA

Gears and Pelle Pelle years

Gold Presi’ like a keg of beer

You know the bezel clear

You had a better year than me as a rapper

Then you legendary

And I'll excuse that, but anything

Less, I gotta refuse that, mm

We weed croppin’, no dispensary weed shoppin'

I'm V-hoppin', got the coupe and the Benz

’cause I need options

Streets watchin', thieves plottin'

Cuffs tightenin', keys lockin'

I wanna build after that time in

The bing like I'm B hopkins, nigga

When my niggas pull up clean with

Them 30s and them things

That look like this, that look like this

Dope boys with ice on they sleeve

Eighty carats worth of VVs

It looks like this, it look like this

Hitters gettin' busy with them

Switches on they glizzy sound like this

(Brrt) , it sound like this (Brrt)

And you might get a little dough

But my whole city know

It's not like this, it's not like this

Violin with the Draco as the handle

There's Ricky the soprano

Hit a riff on the piano

I take shots when I ain't open

They say life is just a gamble

My lil' man'll put you right on top

Of T just like a flannel

I remember countin' up

Little bitch was watchin' Scandal

Keep your eyes where I can see 'em

And you better not change the channel

Thirty plus the re-up turn

A nigga into Randall

We do that shit again and get

It chunky like it's Campbell's

Don't be dumb enough to try me

Leave a motherfucker in between the

Sheets like he the Isleys

Tellin' Siri call away, before I hang up

He beside me even if they wave the flag

To say it's over, bitch, we fire

I got lit on my own, sold a brick by my own

Those days all I needed was

A blick and a phone my young nigga hungry

He just hit a lick for his own and

I can't tell him shit

'cause that's the type of shit that he on

I be hustlin', thuggin', duckin' the law

You love a dirty jawn, she fuckin' us all

Keep your mouth shut, fuck what you saw

You'll get a knife, gun buck or

The saw, left in the yard, yeah i'm on shit

So tell your boys quit like it's Ramadan

So forfeit, the 44 hit like an atomic bomb

I'll get you niggas gone, you get dotted

Cross that dotted line

When my niggas pull up clean with

Them 30s and them things

That look like this, that look like this

Dope boys with ice on they sleeve

Eighty carats worth of VVs

It looks like this, it look like this

Hitters gettin' busy with them

Switches on they glizzy sound like this

(Brrt) , it sound like this (Brrt)

And you might get a little dough

But my whole city know

It's not like this, it's not like this

They say Jones around

Then you know the Butcher comin'

'Posed to be on tour

But I'm out here cookin' onions

Outsiders function when my youngins

Said you want a head shot, nah

Put it to his stomach send 'em from the C to

The A like Andre Drummond

You say you want beef with us

We cookin' up his youngin

My nigga's summer end your whole summer

Yeah, we rap, but we really shooters

This is BSF, disrespect, you see a death

Bunch of my homies got shot

But your homies got nothin'

You niggas playin' Unos

Playin' checkers and this chess

Headshots, don't do leg shots, sleep in vests

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