"Position Of Power" lyrics

See, these niggas think it's about money
Nah, nigga...
It's about real nigga power and connections
I'll give you niggas a hundred thousand right now—
If you don't got your hustle straight
Six months from now you ain't gon' have shit, nigga

Yeah, let's go
Run it up, the money, you savage
Everything I did, I did with passion
They could tell we thuggin' by the fashion
Never mix the business with the pleasure
That's what you niggas really need to practice
I can't put a woman over ballin'
Look at what the pussy did to Magic (haha)

I called my dad from jail — he started laughing
I could put that shit up on a Bible
Rip it out the plastic on arrival

Dragging round the fire like I'm Spiral
Army cargo — Sour look like Guile
Pounds lay across the floor like tiles
We gon' blow the bag or blow trial

For real though —
Niggas dying for nothing
I'm leaving with something
I jump out the window for family — I'm buggin'
Got four pockets full for my baby, I'm hustlin'

I put that shit on just to lay in the crib
I got that shit on — when I leave, I'm a stepper
I like a slutty bitch who like to dress up
She do her makeup, my strap on the dresser

Uh...
I lost some friends and ain't even know it
Then I bought a Benz and ain't even show it
I had the patch with the numbers the lowest
Dressed like a dope boy, rap like a poet

Go through my hood with this cape like I'm Superman
She right beside me — she think that she Lois
Fifty my mark, million my nigga
And just to get close to it, I gotta focus

Niggas don't know about sitting in prison
They kickin' it, envisioning days you was getting it
Signed a deal one day and be killin' shit
That was a dream for me — now I'm living it

If I don't know shit, I know how to survive
If I put in two, I know how to get five
Being a hustler don't include pride
These niggas just want their egos massaged

These niggas just want to be like the gang
Nigga ain't put in no P like the gang
Rumors back home that we took some jewels
Some shit that don't even cost to be on my chain (fuck outta here)

All my big homies sold weed and cocaine
Harriet Tubman gave freedom to slaves
Now up — it's me
Benny The Butcher
The reason rappers can't eat in this lane — ughh

Once upon a handshake
It was camera flicking while the vans wait
Damn, these pictures got us in a crammed space
Planning with you while waiting for the task raid
Masquerades — we don't know who's who
Classmates will have you in a lose-lose
Grew to be rats like their fathers —
Why bother?
Dishonor's designing his trauma inside us
Heroin blocks that were thriving are desolate
We still put effort in
Dressing it like we're unaware that jail is definite
And each fiend's breath has death in it
Fuck it, serve who's left — string them all in
They were looking bummy, we were ballin'
Feds took the money — at least you saw it
Got murdered with the crown — at least you wore it
Had some bad bitches last December
Took some fly pictures — they'll remember
I was in the mix with him in Denver
Depict descriptive scriptures front and center

Only I could tell it — I survived it
Parked 850s in the projects
Dice game, 50 on the sidewalk
I'm RAIN — miss me with your fly talk

The projects got a nigga quarter-packin'
Every plug I met, I made them happy
Shawty said, "You hustle more than rappin'"
Every time I hit record — the action

NYCHA nigga, in and out the mansions
I still brought my skizzy to the Hamptons
Everything I say is worth a caption
Only lemon faces when I stamped it