Benny the Butcher
Time
[2Pac sample]
Imagine, you have 14,000 people ready to whatever you want
You know what I'm saying?
When you have, all over the country, people waiting to hear what you wanna do

[Intro: Benny The Butcher]
Let me sip this 'Gnac
Ha
Talk to you n***as
Uh, uh, word
That's all I need
Let's see if I can get it right here though

[Verse 1: Benny The Butcher]
This for my n***as walking down them long bids in them fed spots (word)
State time, 25 to life for a head shot
Plan to come home putting the game in a head lock
We only celebrate over money, and dead cops
Caught a charge and use to have thе cleanest cars
While thе young n***as getting sent to green and wash
N***as don't know if they want to sell Ki's and rob (Nah!)
Indictment season, every year, Spring and Fall
Fuck your lap, man that ratchet better be in the stash
You get caught, that's an automatic three and a half
You on appeal, and your lawyer tryna' bring you home
So you get cuh, or bloods tryna' bring you home
My first day upstate, a n***a lost his life (real shit!)
You don't know how to play it, might cost his life
This for my homies sitting up, can't forget my n***as
Take flicks in the club and send them to my n***as
Word
(Straight like that!)
[Chorus]

[Verse 2: Conway The Machine]
(I just be smoking man ha ha ha, 'Nah mean?)
Look, count money, it's few verses
My bitch infatuated with shoes and new purses
I'm infatuated with jewels and new verts
With the roof gone, kicked out of heaven, I'm too perfect (Hahaha)
Keep it a hundred, a fuck n***a I really hate
They don't know how to keep it G, let me demonstrate (Pay attention n***a)
I do more than score, I facilitate
I put beef in the bag like a Philly steak (Aaah!)
Fly n***a, getting money in any state
Closet full of pennies I call it the piggy bank (Haha!)
This n***a fronting like something that he really not
Ten bands, them ain't hundreds, that's a fifty knot (what up, baby?)
Fold ups hold fifty shots
Dutchmasters, the fifty rocks (Woo!)
It's S.E 'till I go
Forty on the hip, n***as know

[Chorus]

[Verse 3: Westside Gunn]
Ayo
Raging bulls match the Dior
Ki stored in the wash
The all Peyton reeking of all base, Peruvian flakes
Scraping the case, sprayin'
I'm draped in, Bal Harbour with the 40. Cal armor
Ducking foul karma
The main event, hopping out the latest whip
Three striped killers, the Jeremy Scott's made them sick
Rick Owen's posing, cokin'
MCM duff, wheelie in a Benz truck
Dwayne Wayne Carti's posing with the lens up
Pick your wig up
Drivebys on the .223's
Woodgrain like the Ghost dash
Salute the coke prices dropping then we toast glass
They hitting n***as with the RICO
Nightmares of doing life, bagging up a kilo
Bury n***as alive like Nicky in Casino
Fly as fuck, a.k.a Westside Gambino
[Chorus]