Jermanie’s Graduation
All eyes on me, yeah
You know what I mean, Everybody Can't Go
This shit sound like some 'Pac shit
This for us, man, this ain't for everybody (Classic shit)
Nah, I do this shit, I'll stand on that shit, man
Eastside boys, you know what it is, Everybody Can't Go
Buffalo, Eastside though
Black Soprano Family, big Griselda
Y'all know my name, y'all watched what I did with this
I don't need a trophy
I am the trophy, I be telling niggas
Yo
There's a story behind that name when they call me the Pyrex Man
Like them two bricks from Doug and papis from Kazakhstan
I never sold meth but I know fent', a thousand yams
You ODin' off this shit if you bag and don't wash your hands
Me, teary-eyed and gullible, I lived it with a mother
Who struggled through addiction, I know every side to drug abuse
'Fore life got this comfortable, it's been a few niggas
Who still in they same position because our bond indestructible
It go both ways, auntie spent a 30 on that rock
And the nigga who served her owe a plug who thirsty for that knot
The dealer who fronted that birdie, he murdered for that guap
That was me, but now I'm currently trading currency for stocks
I'm Wall Street-butchering, I'm getting 30-percent off top
40-percent get chopped, other 30? Back in the pot
Ask these rappers, shit I did for upstate just helped make 'em hot
When I invite 'em to the lab, they be scared to play what they got
I'm the don of all dons, YSL and Bond No. 9
Living proof, sign of the times that hate won't bother your grind
I feel like West' on Gustavo, the cocky confident side
You look a killer in their face 'cause they say their eyes still don't lie
I'm hearing rumors start to fly that we split the triangle, nah
Any talks of that's maniacal, but y'all buy it though, why?
I'm still that same hustler, fresh out the Ps that sign on the spot
I guess I stepped on a few rappers on my climb to the top
Who sliding? Invited or not, the violence won't stop
We on that same time and them irons gon' cock, then them sliding doors pop
My niggas catch you at that light then light up your drop
It's like that, the last opp we racked, we united the block
Long roads to success, they hearts broke when I step
They reminiscin' of me, speakin' in morse code to connects
Me and my homies passport bros, pilots load up the jets
Gulfstreams landing in time zones no one expects, mm
Chip in on jet fuel, the flight I slept through
I just need a shot of tequila and Bluetooth I can connect to
It's disrespectful to sit these niggas next to Butch
So I'm shitting around these pussies just like a all-gender restroom
Trips to Bahamas, y'all talking shit from the comments
I'm somewhere off the coast smoking cartridges with my mama
It's Butch, I did it solid, turned visions to dollars
Seven-year run, three away from that ten that I promised y'all
On "One Way Flight," brick rawer than Monday night
I always been the bigger fish, y'all skinny pimps like Money Mike
Still no license, running lights, I let you pick-, the gun or knife
Chase said there's no one as nice and that nigga was fucking right
So fuck you twice, it's Butch
Big Butch
You know how we do this, know what I mean?
The streets still belong to us
Yeah, big boys
Big Griselda, Black Soprano Family, ah!
You know what I mean, Everybody Can't Go
This shit sound like some 'Pac shit
This for us, man, this ain't for everybody (Classic shit)
Nah, I do this shit, I'll stand on that shit, man
Eastside boys, you know what it is, Everybody Can't Go
Buffalo, Eastside though
Black Soprano Family, big Griselda
Y'all know my name, y'all watched what I did with this
I don't need a trophy
I am the trophy, I be telling niggas
Yo
There's a story behind that name when they call me the Pyrex Man
Like them two bricks from Doug and papis from Kazakhstan
I never sold meth but I know fent', a thousand yams
You ODin' off this shit if you bag and don't wash your hands
Me, teary-eyed and gullible, I lived it with a mother
Who struggled through addiction, I know every side to drug abuse
'Fore life got this comfortable, it's been a few niggas
Who still in they same position because our bond indestructible
It go both ways, auntie spent a 30 on that rock
And the nigga who served her owe a plug who thirsty for that knot
The dealer who fronted that birdie, he murdered for that guap
That was me, but now I'm currently trading currency for stocks
I'm Wall Street-butchering, I'm getting 30-percent off top
40-percent get chopped, other 30? Back in the pot
Ask these rappers, shit I did for upstate just helped make 'em hot
When I invite 'em to the lab, they be scared to play what they got
I'm the don of all dons, YSL and Bond No. 9
Living proof, sign of the times that hate won't bother your grind
I feel like West' on Gustavo, the cocky confident side
You look a killer in their face 'cause they say their eyes still don't lie
I'm hearing rumors start to fly that we split the triangle, nah
Any talks of that's maniacal, but y'all buy it though, why?
I'm still that same hustler, fresh out the Ps that sign on the spot
I guess I stepped on a few rappers on my climb to the top
Who sliding? Invited or not, the violence won't stop
We on that same time and them irons gon' cock, then them sliding doors pop
My niggas catch you at that light then light up your drop
It's like that, the last opp we racked, we united the block
Long roads to success, they hearts broke when I step
They reminiscin' of me, speakin' in morse code to connects
Me and my homies passport bros, pilots load up the jets
Gulfstreams landing in time zones no one expects, mm
Chip in on jet fuel, the flight I slept through
I just need a shot of tequila and Bluetooth I can connect to
It's disrespectful to sit these niggas next to Butch
So I'm shitting around these pussies just like a all-gender restroom
Trips to Bahamas, y'all talking shit from the comments
I'm somewhere off the coast smoking cartridges with my mama
It's Butch, I did it solid, turned visions to dollars
Seven-year run, three away from that ten that I promised y'all
On "One Way Flight," brick rawer than Monday night
I always been the bigger fish, y'all skinny pimps like Money Mike
Still no license, running lights, I let you pick-, the gun or knife
Chase said there's no one as nice and that nigga was fucking right
So fuck you twice, it's Butch
Big Butch
You know how we do this, know what I mean?
The streets still belong to us
Yeah, big boys
Big Griselda, Black Soprano Family, ah!
Credits
Writer(s): Alan Maman, Jeremie Scorpio Pennick
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
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