"Guns & Butter" lyrics
(feat. Rocaine)
[Rocaine:]
Big 40, 50 in it, kill lil niggas
Twin pistols, I don't give a fuck if they was real sisters
Real [?] no Versace, what you know about it?
All a nigga know is profit, fuck what you heard about me
Never catch me at no club, on the 8 with Blood
Every hundred, take a gun
Shout out to the plug
Chopper or a tech, nigga, [?] or a vet
Every day I trap, nigga, every day I'm strapped
Click clack, then a pussy wet
I can't even tell you what we do to rats
Free V, A.K.A. Hundred Milli Man
You a motherfucking middle man
Pop out with that chopper, do the hitta dance
Goddamn, that nigga cold blooded
Niggas hate what we do, but the hoes love it
Eh, Ray, talk to these bumms
[Babyface Ray:]
We run up a check, diamonds hang from my neck
Vacation with that load, I came back with them racks
Pool party after dark, got your main getting wet
Drinking lean and Don, mix it in, I'm smacked
Me and Ro back to back, tell them boys go rack for rack
Just got the kush house back, going pack for pack
50 deep in the club, turnt up, that's a fact
Bitches leaving your booth, 'cause they know where it's at
Let the sparkling begin, bring them fucking waters in
I might toss a couple dollars on my ho, because she dance
Lame niggas run they mouth, I'm just running up my bands
All this money got me sagging, I keep pulling up my pants
Stay down though I'm up, all hustle, no luck
Counting paper daily, still plotting, 'cause it ain't enough
I done hit a hundred hoes, but it's none that I can cuff
I done served a million niggas, there ain't one that I can trust
Big 40, 50 in it, kill lil niggas
Twin pistols, I don't give a fuck if they was real sisters
Real [?] no Versace, what you know about it?
All a nigga know is profit, fuck what you heard about me
Never catch me at no club, on the 8 with Blood
Every hundred, take a gun
Shout out to the plug
Chopper or a tech, nigga, [?] or a vet
Every day I trap, nigga, every day I'm strapped
Click clack, then a pussy wet
I can't even tell you what we do to rats
Free V, A.K.A. Hundred Milli Man
You a motherfucking middle man
Pop out with that chopper, do the hitta dance
Goddamn, that nigga cold blooded
Niggas hate what we do, but the hoes love it
Eh, Ray, talk to these bumms
[Babyface Ray:]
We run up a check, diamonds hang from my neck
Vacation with that load, I came back with them racks
Pool party after dark, got your main getting wet
Drinking lean and Don, mix it in, I'm smacked
Me and Ro back to back, tell them boys go rack for rack
Just got the kush house back, going pack for pack
50 deep in the club, turnt up, that's a fact
Bitches leaving your booth, 'cause they know where it's at
Let the sparkling begin, bring them fucking waters in
I might toss a couple dollars on my ho, because she dance
Lame niggas run they mouth, I'm just running up my bands
All this money got me sagging, I keep pulling up my pants
Stay down though I'm up, all hustle, no luck
Counting paper daily, still plotting, 'cause it ain't enough
I done hit a hundred hoes, but it's none that I can cuff
I done served a million niggas, there ain't one that I can trust
