Songtexte.com Drucklogo

Billy Joe Songtext
von Benny the Butcher

Billy Joe Songtext

Yeah, nigga
I don′t gotta say too much, ah
You know my track record, my, my reputation proceeds itself
Griselda
Everything you heard about me might be true, nigga
Real shit


Yo, Sammy Gravano told on bodies, they gave that boy immunity
They give a dope boy life, say we destroyin' communities
I let ′em make me out the villain, I stay poised as Putin be
Y'all tryna do the pigs' job, y′all like the boys in blue to me
I wasn′t really good at shit so sellin' poison suited me
Low-income based livin′, my pops avoided schoolin' me
So how I′m 'posed to feel? These hoes ain′t usin' me
Makin' choices foolishly
It took a fair case and some more to get through to me
Streets know I′m activated, don′t slack, I get at the paper
I'm one classic from great up amongst these rappers today
But I ain′t talked the kind of shit
That I'm talkin′ till I had my weight up
Vino beggin' me to put a hundred slabs on a tractor trailer
Laughin′ at my opps passin' through like
"I'll catch you later", right
I′m drivin′ fast shit like the cast from Talladega Nights

They're comfortable on phones, talkin′ work on your line dangerous
I won't sell another brick again ′til I learn sign language

On the first of the month, I started with a fresh half
Then gave all my fiends rides to get they checks cashed
By the third of the month, I still had the best glass
I served my next door neighbor, my auntie and stepdad
On the first of the month, I started with a fresh half
Then gave all my fiends rides to get they checks cashed
By the third of the month, I still had the best glass
I served my next door neighbor, my auntie and stepdad


Fuck all the critics, we did it the hard way
This for the check cashin' spots on Fillmore and Broadway
I treat my city like Monopoly, sitting on Park Place
The engine in the shit I′m whippin' in fit for a car chase, uh
I'm sick of all these fake bosses and temporary soldiers
I put twenty in a Toyota down in Tempe, Arizona
Rich shit, fuckin′ famous hoes missionary on sofas
Thousand dollar suites on jets, flyin′ out to meet with my broker
But how it get to this? (How?) Tell me, you ever sleep with a cobra?
And get hit with cheap work, you know the powder sink when it's soda
Damn, I counted out at half a million with my eyes closed
′Cause this year I feel like I'm ′99 Hov
I'm breakin′ records, settin' milestones, out in Hawaiian time zones
Nobody cried when they killed Alpo

Y'all still on them phones, talkin′ work on your line dangerous
I won′t sell another brick again 'til I learn sign language

On the first of the month, I started with a fresh half
Then gave all my fiends rides to get they checks cashed
By the third of the month, I still had the best glass
I served my next door neighbor, my auntie and stepdad
On the first of the month, I started with a fresh half
Then gave all my fiends rides to get they checks cashed
By the third of the month, I still had the best glass
I served my next door neighbor, my auntie and stepdad

Songtext kommentieren

Log dich ein um einen Eintrag zu schreiben.
Schreibe den ersten Kommentar!

Beliebte Songtexte
von Benny the Butcher

Quiz
„Grenade“ ist von welchem Künstler?

Fans

»Billy Joe« gefällt bisher niemandem.