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lirik lagu benji in china – benji franks

benji
it’s chyna o
yeah
i came to give the hoes plenty
you know
y’all b*tches tryna catch up? tomato tomato tomato
my rules are my rules, just simply because i say so
conscience on my shoulders but i fl!cked the one with the halo
there’s no being humble when it’s plenty b*tches trying me
i say f*ck you if you doubted me
i ain’t tryna wait for you to be proud of me
i don’t need a man to fendi, gucci, louis, prada me
tipped over tipsy, that’s the little teapot in me
shaking glasses with the ice but ain’t a b*tch here spotting me
starvin for some meat
you don’t want no heat
well done
b*tches be mad at me ’cause they mamas done failed ’em
tell them b*tches to back it up
b*tches ugly, b*tch pack it up
must be smoking some angel dust
if they’re thinking they f*ck with us
who the f*ck they think touching us
b*tches never is brave enough
we can call up the city morgue
let ’em know that you checking in
who you think that you’re badder than?
mj laughed at that
tip my hat at the effort, but you can’t lie like that
n*ggas give no f’s in life so all they do in life i lie
i let him open his lips and then give him the side eye
i knew he was cap when he said the future’s my time
but my time is here and now and you better get it right
why you gotta be on this and that
everything ain’t so black and white
these hoes tripping, running in place
but the treadmill’s not working right
when it’s up it’s never stuck
i say jump, they double dutch
nothing moves without my say but i still just don’t give a f*ck
let me give you some lessons
ask god to give you some blessings
you can take ’em and share ’em to all your bum ass friends
you could get in the benz
i’ll take you for a li’l spin
i know you might like the ride, ’cause you can’t live like this
had to switch my flow now, busting out like four rounds
san diego to the raq tell me where i should go now
i don’t care who had the mic last, this here is my show now
b*tches running dry, when they owe me, xaolin showdown
i get the n*ggas you dream about
i’m that b*tch that you read about
i be up on the billboards, you be looking up to the clout
i’m that b*tch that you wanna be
all you b*tches is wannabes
you could never be one of me
all you b*tches is sons to me
all you b*tches is sons to me
you could never be one of me
i’m the one and the only, ain’t no b*tches is touching me
tell them b*tches to pack it up ’cause they know it’s my season
and i ain’t f*cking executives, if i get it, i bleed it
i’ma sh*t on you hoes and wipe my ass with the cash
i know you b*tches is broke, i might donate a li’l bag
you can stop with the gossiping
cause i’m up and i’m popping b*tch
i be icy as f*ck but i’m still the hottest b*tch
private flights to ibiza
skeezer
while parked on the meter
protect my energy these hoes are death eaters
i mean bottom feeders
i assert myself and now i’m a diva
was a diva
been a diva
either way come write this diva’s
name on the check and i’m signing the back i’m taking it straight to the bank
big ‘ol bags in the back of the lac, we moving it state to state
benji and chyna racing wraiths
i’m always in outer sp*ce
hold on hold my kerosine
’cause i got i got i got peter piper wishing that he picked this pickled pepper
if you’re checking my track record
double dutching “red hot chili stepper”
it don’t get no better
than the wax seal on the scarlet letter
just give it a rest because you can’t catch up to my level

- benji franks

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