Real Rap (with Benny The Butcher)

Uh
Uh
G Herbo

Way back in grade school, I was a baby bully
Before I ever bought Amiri's, it was grey hoodies
For every nigga, every bitch that I can't have cut it
Pussy, listen, better think 'bout what you sayin' to me
My lil' cousin and 'em in traffic, with like 80 fullies
For real, they gon' kill, blood spill and take a pill
I knew I'd make a mil' ever since I was little

I'm on defense with my steel, but I like to drill
Wake up, work, and pay my bills, but I like to chill
I just bought another GT coupe, that's the lil' one
I watched Disney on the TV too, with my lil' ones
When you call me, I might fall through, 'cause I'm a real one
Fuck these rappers, 'cause they all food, I don't feel them
My lil' hoe, she know a hundred tricks, like Matilda
And on my strip, we took over shit, like the pilgrims (woo)

Butcher comin', nigga, yeah
I jumped in this shit, just to cause some terror, I'm not from the blogger era
Park my coupe by the truck that start up when I'm walkin' near it
The FBI try to make me a target just off of lyrics
I look and see a bunch of me's, this shit must be a wall of mirrors

I'm talkin' serious, Mr. Pyrex man, I'm an author, period
Facts, as far as stats go, I should be all American
But I thought the streets was cool, I was fallin' asleep in school
I made white float on water, just like a Norwegian cruise

I ain't that patient with these hoes, shit like this be new to Earth
She only see niggas like me on TV or Google Search
Fuck a broke bitch, if she gon' front like you using her
I fuck one more time, then cut her off, 'fore she do it first

This spot, I had to take it, rappers in they imaginations
I really got plugs, drugs, and travel agents
Since way back, them felony charges been aggravated
Anybody who cross gang got a suit and a casket waitin', ah
Yeah, it's The Butcher
Swerve, we really like that
Really like that

A vampire, but I'm Blade, I got a different thirst
Couple million niggas made, bitch, I did it first
Couple opps came trim, then we did 'em worse
This my block, you get some clout, then you get a shirt
I'm really him, I did the Lamb', I done did the 'vert
My bitch in every different whip, every different purse
My clique in every different Rollie, AP is crazy
I played the streets, I'm like Meech and Jay-Z

I played the game waist-deep, you know this gangster shit ain't cheap
I had a shootout, then I made a quarter million in the same week
I'm at odds with a nigga I love, so we can't speak
That's my nigga, but I'm on what he on 'cause I ain't sweet
Just take me for example, look what this shit made me
Be careful what you wish for 'cause the paper don't change grief
Yeah, somewhere in Cali' with Swervo, Lamb' behind the turbo
They think I went commercial, there's killers in my circle (there's killers in my circle)



Credits
Writer(s): Michael Cerda, Herbert Randall Wright Iii, Malcolm Joshua Martin, Gerson Zaragoza
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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