Bullet Klub Lyrics - Benny

[Intro: Conway] 

Yeah 

You niggas know what's up nigga 

Don't play stupid nigga 

Yeah 

Banks, what's up nigga? 

It's go time homie 

[Verse 1: Conway] 

Look, these niggas can't match what I create 

Boy, I'm actually great 

Homie, I used to stash cracks by the gate (aaahh) 

The couple stacks I would make with the MAC on my waist 

I could send a package upstate and have you stabbed in the face 

Thought you was safe while behind the wall (huh) 

You vagina soft (pussy) 

Have you poked inside the yard, then youngin slidin off (haha..) 

Before the Shady signin, I wore designer, y'all 

Dog, I swear we cut from a different kind of cloth (facts) 

I'm kinda off, wig shot, your brains fly across the street 

When I fire off the heat, then I'm ridin off 

Goin to get my dick sucked inside a loft (haha..) 

Put Scotty O.G. inside of my cigar (smokin) 

Don't call my phone if you ain't tryin to buy it all, I'm the God 

Keep it a 1000, I inspire y'all (HAHAHHH..) 

I provided y'all with classics, dropped the hardest tape since '94 

But I started out supplyin raw 

Okay, I get it, my face is twisted 

But considerin my facial image, what nigga spit it the way I spit it? 

Think about it, I'll wait a minute... (haha) 

I had to give you time to think of a name 

Cause it might take a minute 

When I dropped Reject 2, I made a statement with it 

Niggas talk tough, I prop up, to see what's shaking with it 

Let the Beretta knock the letters of your Lakers fitted 

Toss bullets, I'm Troy Aikman with it when he played with Emmitt 

Admit it, I'm one of the greatest with it, huh 

I raise the bar, flick the razor leave your face with scars 

Break in your place and all that money in your safe is ours 

You rap niggas ain't safe at all 

My youngin takin niggas chains at the awards 

And then we skatin off 

Empty the sticks like 50 shots is sprayin off 

Kill 'em, double back, hit 'em again, we makin' sure, uh 

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[Hook: Lloyd Banks] 

Uh, you know where the fuck we from, nigga 

Sound like a murder one.. (pap pap..) 

It's the real niggas year 

Blood, sweat, tears and bullet flares 

[Verse 2: Lloyd Banks] 

Figured I hit the top with those I seen the bottom with 

Wrong! 

They switched, my circle so small I'm standin' out of it (damn) 

Episodes of a giant, hand me my monument 

Steal off the table bet he won't have a family to count it with (nah) 

Fake ass nigga, sign your baby a counterfeit 

Limbs knocked off your counterparts 

We're known for breakin' mama hearts (uhh) 

Ran out of patience debatin', die for the fast flip 

Cruisin, collectin' Confederate flags to wipe my ass with (nigga) 

Had to be killin' shit, I'm hearing ghosts 

Seein' my folks disappearin' my feelings broke (uhh) 

Being successful will bring 'em to tears faster 

Keep your.. threats off the wire, buggin' out's my Fear Factor 

Uh.. 30 rounds for your square rapper 

The hand of God off the vertical, rear'll smack ya (uhh) 

Shot at me but I never felt a thing, my diamonds freezin' 

Hate allergic, Valentino handkerchief for sneezin' (yeah) 

Drippin' with passion, I overdosed twice 

Aced all obstacles, I ain't run from shit but po'-lice 

Hunger balance cold nights 

Life's a gamble, be damned I don't throw dice 

I'm ten toes spike, high as my show price (uhh) 

I bet a semi rise'll clear out all the petty vibes 

It bark like a Shepherd, bite (bike) like Pennywise (uhh) 

Them cruel beginnings of grim chronic and Henny eyes 

Ghoul vomit and envy cries for cowards in disguise 

I pull your card, make 'em look at you awkward after 

Run around on my Gorilla shit, shittin' and toss it at ya 

I was meant to be on in this era, too off for master 

Lash your back with your own whip 

Followed by stronger laughter (yeah) 

Look in my eyes and see the struggle of success 

The memories of a hundred real niggas here in the flesh 

From the view off the mountain top I was mesmerized 

Medicine for maniacs, chain-reacts and the ghetto fried 

Photos 

[Hook: Lloyd Banks] 

Uh, you know where the fuck we from nigga 

Sound like a murder one 

It's the real niggas year 

Blood, sweat, tears and bullet flares 

[Verse 3: Benny] 

Yo, in my town we got foul habits, .40 cal packers 

Hustlers plow cash and trap in a wild fashion 

Til agents chase us around backwards 

They know our faces, but to them, we just cases in a file cabinet 

I'm Louie'd down in that brown fabric, this watch I bought to drown sadness 

Blame my childhood for how I'm actin' 

And leave the counter then we brown baggin' 

The dollar amount stackin', I can see them numbers 

Hustlers count backwards 

I'm somewhat comfy in the bar section, not 'cause I'm rich 

Cause I'm certified, I'm nothing like these cross dressers 

I can't believe where the flow got us 

I kept the whole profit, got a plan with rock like the Globetrotters 

We straighten beef out and fold dollars 

But I'm still humble from the days 

We ate the bread with the mold 'round it 

And this a feeling you will never feel, flow impressive still 

And I perform better when the pressure build 

Single mothers readin' hustlers, stretchin' meals 

She fed us with the cash for the electric bill (woo!) 

I'm too eclectic, mouth reckless still 

I hit the hood just to chill, like the old days, catch a feel 

You see, this paper could change a nigga demeanor (seen it) 

I seen it take dreamers and make 'em into believers (uh huh) 

Had you sippin' Ace pullin' up like Ace in the Beamer 

But first you gotta relate to that Ace in the cleaners, AAAHHH!