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• Artiste: Benny (Rapper)
• Titre: Rev X
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Uh Uh Stalkin' me is how your days are spent What's your bitch on Section 8 And won't work cause they gone raise the rent It's new dishes on my palate I'm loving Italian You never called a Charlie horse Why you fucking a stallion? Carrying on tradition that's what the jewelry for Mine say I remind her of a brother he robbed jewelry stores I'm exalted for my pencil game I'm a legend you a troll if I respond that'll give you fame I smiled more when I was in the cane The rap part easy I could do without the mental strain Niggas act like I was handed this I just took them L's in silence like salmon fish Druggin' in my house you wasn't in the same boat Went to school with second hand cain smoke in my raincoats Somebody say a prayer while I slang coke Cause granny gone I know she love me and the game don't I don't give a fuck what you think bitch Your thoughts Your thoughts Your thoughts ain't my thoughts Bitch I'm flowing straight from the survival scroll Cut that bitch off Only take advice from hustlers so practice what you preach Want some hand-me-downs to class with no cabbage for new sneaks Know all my opps is clicking up cause they jealousies fumed deep My success brought all these niggas together like Juneteenth Invest in real estate to cook and make them big pies flip That's my importer house we cut it like a rib-eye dish Your new ship was medium? Well then you ain't been high since We put in all that steak to feast up on that NY strip Left the dealership with whips for the nights I got slept on Massages with heated seats keep the back of my legs warm Drop chips for the red and black like a game of connect four Every move you make is a L like the night off of chessboard What's up with that price margin? It's high so I might chalk it Don't make me stain this nigga like juice on the white carpet Dump until it ain't a nina left a bigger BSF Every verse is like a key of death we'll leave your key a stretch Shit I'm a a boss now can get you off now Harlem Williams and half-baked this shit'll put a horse down Protect your quarterback so you can win the ball on turf Keep that consistency cause if you lose the fall off hurt When the feds tried to break the crew the boss knew it first Put that money up maybe a chain or two but them cars go on first Everything wholesale you know them zips are all goin' first But fuck it won't be the first time we took a lost song work Nigga this new money this rap shit like jewel money I need on the court off the court Michael Jordan shoe money Cause in the booth out the booth either way I produce money No up and down fluke money Nigga this ten year run proof money Real Soprano shit Me and Sule locked And me and bass got a competition goin' To see who dope can make their face locked They crazy numbers need a strait jacket for that straight drop Might walk in your trap and say may I? Just to say I still got it BSF I'm Fred Hampton in that continental Every gangsta need a good team to compliment you Ashing from the balcony the 39th floor I'm rich enough to know who down for me in that money fight wars It's B.S.F nigga These are the real Sopranos