Ayo, I had to get somethin' off my chest
Had to get somethin' off my chest, right
Turn me up, turn the beat up some
You know, karma's a bytch, she a dirty bytch
Ayo, City Boy, remember we robbed them nikkas
For about fifty in jewels and a hundred in cash?
Hahaha, this shyt all come back though
Ah, yo (And I'm doin' this shyt from a wheelchair)
[Verse 1]
Uh, quarter million in a week
I made your bytch come assist with the count
She could be a thief but because of that mouth
I give her the benefit of the doubt
Yeah, extra twenty off a brick
Those the benefits of a drought, nikka
I can't even sit on a couch with you
If it's really bricks in the house, nikka
For my city, know how I rock
Breaking news story leaked by the cops
Cuban links on me, too thick to snatch
To run off with mines, I had to get shot
[Chorus]
Rolls Royce truck, they said we stood out
Only one mistake, I ain't have a lookout
Quarter in jewels, shoppin' at Walmart
Take me out the hood, but can't take the hood out
See Benny the Butcher Live
Get tickets as low as $220
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[Verse 2]
Made my whole city wanna be rappers (Yeah)
I made the trappers all shoot for the ceiling
We turned a brick to a lucrative business
My net worth about a cool two million
Already know what you do for them hoes
But it's about what you do for your nikkas
Meetings with HOV and kickin' it with E
I put my team in a room with them billions
fukk all the bloggers, the nikkas who shot me
fukk all the opps and fukk Wendy Williams
Can't trust nobody, it's all smoke and mirrors
I still ain't make no real friends in this business
[Chorus]
Rolls Royce truck, they said we stood out
Only one mistake, I ain't have a lookout
Quarter in jewels, shoppin' at Walmart
Take me out the hood, but can't take the hood out
[Verse 3]
nikkas told me since this shyt happened that I'm lit
I should take advantage of it
That's why I really can't stand you suckers
Go to Instagram but won't handle nothin'
Out the hospital to a private jet
The bullet really ain't damage nothin' (I'm good, nikka)
nikkas would've been in my position
I bet they would've hit the panic button, man (nikkas get shot everyday, B)
They was sent for me, my dawg in Houston got a tip for me
Mexicans that'll wig for me
Their pinky fingers gettin' sent to me, yeah
Interviews with me, all sent offers
Stuck to the code, the mob, no talkin'
Won't talk about it on camera
Unless it's with Anderson Cooper or Barbara Walters (Houston)