"Rev X" lyrics
Benny The Butcher, Fuego Base & Black Soprano Family Lyrics
(feat. Sule)
Uh
Uh
Stalkin' me is how your days are spent
What's your bitch on Section 8
And won't work cause they gone raise the rent
It's new dishes on my palate I'm loving Italian
You never called a Charlie horse
Why you fucking a stallion?
Carrying on tradition that's what the jewelry for
Mine say I remind her of a brother he robbed jewelry stores
I'm exalted for my pencil game
I'm a legend you a troll if I respond that'll give you fame
I smiled more when I was in the cane
The rap part easy I could do without the mental strain
Niggas act like I was handed this
I just took them L's in silence like salmon fish
Druggin' in my house you wasn't in the same boat
Went to school with second hand cain smoke in my raincoats
Somebody say a prayer while I slang coke
Cause granny gone I know she love me and the game don't
I don't give a fuck what you think bitch
Your thoughts
Your thoughts
Your thoughts ain't my thoughts
Bitch I'm flowing straight from the survival scroll
Cut that bitch off
Only take advice from hustlers so practice what you preach
Want some hand-me-downs to class with no cabbage for new sneaks
Know all my opps is clicking up cause they jealousies fumed deep
My success brought all these niggas together like Juneteenth
Invest in real estate to cook and make them big pies flip
That's my importer house we cut it like a rib-eye dish
Your new ship was medium?
Well then you ain't been high since
We put in all that steak to feast up on that NY strip
Left the dealership with whips for the nights I got slept on
Massages with heated seats keep the back of my legs warm
Drop chips for the red and black like a game of connect four
Every move you make is a L like the night off of chessboard
What's up with that price margin?
It's high so I might chalk it
Don't make me stain this nigga like juice on the white carpet
Dump until it ain't a nina left a bigger BSF
Every verse is like a key of death we'll leave your key a stretch
Shit I'm a a boss now can get you off now
Harlem Williams and half-baked this shit'll put a horse down
Protect your quarterback so you can win the ball on turf
Keep that consistency cause if you lose the fall off hurt
When the feds tried to break the crew the boss knew it first
Put that money up maybe a chain or two but them cars go on first
Everything wholesale you know them zips are all goin' first
But fuck it won't be the first time we took a lost song work
Nigga this new money this rap shit like jewel money
I need on the court off the court Michael Jordan shoe money
Cause in the booth out the booth either way I produce money
No up and down fluke money
Nigga this ten year run proof money
Real Soprano shit
Me and Sule locked
And me and bass got a competition goin'
To see who dope can make their face locked
They crazy numbers need a strait jacket for that straight drop
Might walk in your trap and say may I?
Just to say I still got it
BSF
I'm Fred Hampton in that continental
Every gangsta need a good team to compliment you
Ashing from the balcony the 39th floor
I'm rich enough to know who down for me in that money fight wars
It's B.S.F nigga
These are the real Sopranos
Uh
Stalkin' me is how your days are spent
What's your bitch on Section 8
And won't work cause they gone raise the rent
It's new dishes on my palate I'm loving Italian
You never called a Charlie horse
Why you fucking a stallion?
Carrying on tradition that's what the jewelry for
Mine say I remind her of a brother he robbed jewelry stores
I'm exalted for my pencil game
I'm a legend you a troll if I respond that'll give you fame
I smiled more when I was in the cane
The rap part easy I could do without the mental strain
Niggas act like I was handed this
I just took them L's in silence like salmon fish
Druggin' in my house you wasn't in the same boat
Went to school with second hand cain smoke in my raincoats
Somebody say a prayer while I slang coke
Cause granny gone I know she love me and the game don't
I don't give a fuck what you think bitch
Your thoughts
Your thoughts
Your thoughts ain't my thoughts
Bitch I'm flowing straight from the survival scroll
Cut that bitch off
Only take advice from hustlers so practice what you preach
Want some hand-me-downs to class with no cabbage for new sneaks
Know all my opps is clicking up cause they jealousies fumed deep
My success brought all these niggas together like Juneteenth
Invest in real estate to cook and make them big pies flip
That's my importer house we cut it like a rib-eye dish
Your new ship was medium?
Well then you ain't been high since
We put in all that steak to feast up on that NY strip
Left the dealership with whips for the nights I got slept on
Massages with heated seats keep the back of my legs warm
Drop chips for the red and black like a game of connect four
Every move you make is a L like the night off of chessboard
What's up with that price margin?
It's high so I might chalk it
Don't make me stain this nigga like juice on the white carpet
Dump until it ain't a nina left a bigger BSF
Every verse is like a key of death we'll leave your key a stretch
Shit I'm a a boss now can get you off now
Harlem Williams and half-baked this shit'll put a horse down
Protect your quarterback so you can win the ball on turf
Keep that consistency cause if you lose the fall off hurt
When the feds tried to break the crew the boss knew it first
Put that money up maybe a chain or two but them cars go on first
Everything wholesale you know them zips are all goin' first
But fuck it won't be the first time we took a lost song work
Nigga this new money this rap shit like jewel money
I need on the court off the court Michael Jordan shoe money
Cause in the booth out the booth either way I produce money
No up and down fluke money
Nigga this ten year run proof money
Real Soprano shit
Me and Sule locked
And me and bass got a competition goin'
To see who dope can make their face locked
They crazy numbers need a strait jacket for that straight drop
Might walk in your trap and say may I?
Just to say I still got it
BSF
I'm Fred Hampton in that continental
Every gangsta need a good team to compliment you
Ashing from the balcony the 39th floor
I'm rich enough to know who down for me in that money fight wars
It's B.S.F nigga
These are the real Sopranos
