High level rap
You know me, nigga

Buggin' out, I'm tipsy (tipsy)
I smuggled out Poughkeepsie (upstate)
Package had a Seattle stamp, I thought the plug was from 60s (neighborhood)
Bubbled out the Bentley (skrrt)
Suckers tried convince me (uh)
Gun powder inside my whiskey
Blowin' sour, vibin' to Missy (yeah)
Misdemeanor Elliot
These rap niggas is delicate (soft)
I'll never switch
I been on some shit since Perry Ellis fits (remember that?)
Broke weed down at the Marriott
This hustle, I inherited (I got it)
Prescriptions for the low
Come and cop it or I can mail the shit (woo)
They shot him in his face, it ain't no repass (nah)
I'm Tyson with that speedbag (right)
I really seen a brick look like a Dreamcast (I did)
My aunt been clean for years, I pray to Allah she don't relapse (Inshallah)
They put cameras where we sleep at
With these grams, I don't need rap (I don't need it)
I told mami just go down slow
I'm from the projects, my nigga
Could give a fuck about an "Old Town Road" (I don't care)
I hit Berner for Pound Cake, he let a whole pound go (my nigga)
One of the illest niggas breathin' and my whole town know (woo)
It's Harlem

My neck be this weight 'cause that sket keep me safe (mm-hmm)
I gave out more dog food than the SPCA (SPCA)
I'm in the label office crunchin' up figures
I'm one of them niggas
That gave the fiends testers with the dust from a blender, yeah (woo)
I can't forget the blocks that fed me right (fed me right)
These crooked agents still want me for tax evasion like Wesley Snipes
To talk this way, I paid a hefty price
I sold dope, got knocked
But never spoke after they read me rights
The chopper on the bedroom floor lay horizontal (uh-huh)
In the crib with the cathedral ceilings, the floor's marble
Heard an opp died while we was out clubbin', got more bottles
And the teller at the bank think my bitch a couture model, uh
Respect or the money, which you willin' to keep? (Pick one)
If it's lit, is you spinnin' or you sendin' a tweet? (Pick one)
I kept winnin', that got 'em used to the feel of defeat
Yeah, you know it's really the streets, Benny and East

Nigga, it's Pablo and the Butcher (Pablo)
Survival had me booked up (booked up)
Inside the car, now I can see the stars if I look up (Wraith)
Been a good month and that's on all the raw that I cooked up
I might buy my bitch an Audemar just for good luck
Yeah (yeah), ask for smoke, I already got a blunt
I'm headed to Philly with coke the same color as Donald Trump (fuck him)
The opps slidin', but not on us
All this stress I got bottled up
Calls from hoes that I don't want
That powder we would bottle up (right)
I got guns for World War III, nigga, just sign me up
Good luck tryna line me up (good luck)
I'm landin' at LaGuardia
Had meetings with the mafia
I count that paper, then I can't sleep, I catch insomnia
Jewish lawyer beat my case, we celebrate the shit like Hanukkah
Caught him tryna get breakfast and shot the diner up (boom)
Fiends fightin' over the boy, Brandy and Monica
Gangster, you know how I'm cut, honestly, you should honor us
I remember baggin' up Haze, jacket was Nautica
I couldn't stay out late, on my ankle, I had a monitor, word

Benny, Benny, Benny, Benny and East
The illest niggas breathin', respect, respect
Benny and East
Yeah, you, yeah, you, yeah, you know it's really the streets
Benny, Benny, Benny, Benny and East
With these grams, I, I, I don't need rap
Benny, Benny, Benny and East
Gangster, gangster, you should honor us

Copyright: CONCORD MUSIC PUBLISHING LLC, Royalty Network, Songtrust Ave, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
Writer(s): Daniel Garcia, David Brewster, Francis Ubiera, Jeremie Pennick, Michael Kuzoian, Shawn Thomas