Bust a Brick Nick Songtext
von Benny the Butcher

N- can′t talk this shit like I talk it
'Cause n- ain′t been where I've been
I told 'em that like three years ago
Who better than Griselda, n-?
Who did it like us, n-?


N- say they nice, but don′t shake shit up like the Butch′
I got a movie deal but chillin, 'cause my real life like a book
Blue steel knife tor the jugg so don′t be that life that I took
The next time you sneak diss me, just pay me
I'll write the hook
Now look who the bread earner, the Eastside Ted Turner
In this business, it′s best to stay out yo' feelings
To advance further
Can′t shake the bitch, I told her
I get the neck but, I can't serve ya
She not my type but, her pops the connect so
I can't curve her
Before a bullet wound, it was shit that permanently hurt me
In a wheelchair, it was hard to smile on my 36th birthday
Being honest, this could be karma I prolly deserve in the first place
The shit I′m thinkin′ 'bout on a jet, that′s landing in Burbank
Fuck rap, we be back pluggin' whole units to worst case
These jewels on my shirt say "Bitch come here, ion′ skirt-chase"
Put us over, and that was my fourth felony, certainly
Got a warning, I'd be in Lewisburg right now if they search me
Locked in with plugs
So I know that shit y′all copping, no good
They get the drop, I'm the type to send fiends to shop in yo' hood
I′m like 95 KG n-, I′m with the wolves
But me and City Mike and Pippen 'fore Rodman got to the Bulls
Before we talk paper, let′s make a simple assessment
My little crypto-investment was prolly triple yo' necklace
On this episode of "Flavor of Love", yo′ bitch a contestant
'Cause she don′t ever suck dick the first night, this an exception
Hide the paper somewhere safe, a place them dicks won't expect it
They calculate how long it's gon′ take to get to your weapon
No love songs, I kept it gangster 24-seven
You cryin′ ass rappers' labels should send y′all n- to Ellen
Ayo Butch' let me holla at you
Wait, chill, chill, give me one second, nah
Y′all n- light hoes you can talk when y'all done begging, nah
Let′s talk about the shit that I did to become legend
'Cause the money not enough no more, I want credit
The money not enough for this
Feel like I made to much of it
Seven figure deal, tell my plug I'm still hustling
Ten year anniversary, Sopranos still bubbling
A Buffalo n- with a flow nobody fuckin′ with
In the race, I already won
I guess this lap was for victory
Doing songs with bigger acts, and they tell me that′s going industry
But look back at my history
For the past five years it's like my status been tripling
I get back with humility
Make no excuses, came to the conclusion
That y′all should hate me
They wanna do this, but my shooters been cutting off water lately
Too rich to incarcerate me on charges, them odds are shaky
The Feds watch me get a M on tv like I'm Carson, daily
Street taught me a part, my heart cold like a orphan baby
The pain a reminder, I feel like these is the scars that made me
Had my best run, but now lost shape
Of course it′s crazy
I ask God to bring 'em back, pray he jump out his coffin, maybe
In all-white like I ain′t never sin, but you would never win
How you gon' call me Hollywood bitch, and you ain't never been
You know my regiment, CLS Benz, that I ain′t never rent
First thing she do is tell a friend, if I ever let her in
They wanna know, how I′m up off records that they don't ever spin
Another ten steps ahead of them, by the time it all settle in
When I drop, rappers fuck then it′s time, they dead again
I got a closet full of measurement cups and the Presidents
The Buther, n-, ahhhh