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the ghost - benny the butcher lyrics

[intro]
yeah
this sh*t dangerous, n*gga
[?] the sidewalk, young boy
yo, look

[verse]
you let him slide once, he gon’ think he get a pass
it’s like a camping trip, we leave n*ggas sleeping in the bag
soon as you cross that line you got me reaching for the mag
went to meeting fiends on the corner to meetings with the staff
i let ’em chase hoes, i’m tryna keep up with the cash
n*ggas run around with b*tches i recently done smashed
seen some good n*ggas go and some leaching n*ggas last
old heads f*cked the game up only teaching n*ggas half
what’s up with n*ggas rapping ’bout drugs and gangsta sh*t
who never had funds or a plug relationships
if you know we got bricks of that taylor swift
you cop one and that’s how y’all become acquaintances
when your paper get low, dog, these hoes get finicky
that’s how the streets go, they never show no sympathy
on the road to riches we stuck to codes and symmetry
everybody got a weakness so expose your enemies
i know n*ggas who eating so they keep a low identity
got dough for bentley’s, still drove infinity’s
this for hustlers chasing fast numbers, crack pumpers
gat dumpers, that mac gon’ stutter like black youngsta
she love drama, yeah, my glock on romantic sh*t
f*ck versace, you gon’ be rocking hospital bandages
i got disadvantages, but got up and handled it
sh*t i drop got you thinking ’bout dropping your management
and stay green, shackled to a n*gga with ten
but i’m only doing two and got six months in
if we trade time, i wonder would i switch up then?
would the people who kept it real with me give up then?
a lot of y’all p*ssy, [?] tight v*g*n*
thinking i’ma probably like what you write and sign you
the sh*t i’m weighing on the scale look like madonna
call my k “panda” ’cause it sound like designer
real n*ggas bossed up and you washed up
forty*five with the large buck get your jaw struck
electric dodge truck and it’s charged up
[?] smoking like a wiz khalifa tour bus
so you a hustler? you gotta be kidding me, scr*p
you gotta move a certain way when you getting these packs
n*ggas sh*t could be tapped, had to sit in these traps
i knew they had my dog ’cause he wasn’t hitting me back, d*mn
[outro]
gotta call the lawyer
i gotta the bail bondsman
i gotta pull up to the trap, see what they ain’t get
huh, f*ck
when that n*gga wasn’t picking up his jack, i knew what time it was
real sh*t, hmm
let me ad*lib it [?]

- benny the butcher lyrics

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