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Benny The Butcher

Death

 

Death

(album: Benny Montana - 2010)


The streets keep calling me back
So what I do? came back
2 Chain Benny, man
Buff City, Black Blood ENT
Rest in peace [?]
I know that ya'll be wondering
Like why I be on that D-boy shit?
What are you talking about? What do you mean about that?
I keep it coming like your neighborhood dope man

I turn a dream to reality, beat to a casualty
And all this work on us, triple beam to a salary
My whip game insane, see the big chain
The white girl, I beat the bitch like Rick James
I just drive the new whips, I don't make 'em playa
The touch screen look like I'm playing Space Invaders
Your money weird thug, I apply layers of
Killed 'em, '05 and '06, I took a year off
But I'm back, '07, right here, y'all
Coupe from the future, like you're looking through a clear ball
Yeah, I'm gassed over cash, I'm the pump man
But then, I'll smash through your glass like a stuntman
Reap what you sow, steal from me, you gotta return
I let your baby mama keep [?]
No vest on my back, you gotta hold me down soldier
We back on the same shit when the trial over
They can keep they sprints, we use pre-paid shits
They listen to we whisper, like the Ying Yang Twins
I cook grams up, boil 'em in ether
So my tag with the kush man more than your re-up
I'm in the office, head back and my feet up
Tired? No, I don't want no dirt on my sneakers
Gangstas never die, so bury me alive
And then, tell my story on Larry King Live
Behind the Glory, maybe on Oprah
I bet these words never make it to a notebook
I'm a D-boy, so my life trife
I got a black handgun and a white wife
Mama looked and said "Baby, you a born star"
So it's fuck everybody like a pornstar
Fifty-dollar blunt, five-hundred-dollar shades
Mr. I'm Paid and I'm running out of names, nigga
Mr. D-boy, how you whip that?
I'm fucked up, can you show me how to get back?
Yeah, I'll show you how to get back
Nigga, this the get-back, uh

Fatto

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