"Sign Language" lyrics

Benny the Butcher & Harry Fraud Lyrics

"Sign Language"

Excelsior
I've been through too much, I just live in the moment

Yo, only hustlers understand, so tell me, how can I explain?
I made it out my hood, but still a target 'cause of fame
I'm somewhere in my thoughts, could be good, could be bad
Got everything I want, but I was good with what we had, right?
Yeah
Two types of niggas
Some niggas see you getting money and salute
I'm that type of niggas
Other niggas see you getting money
That's me
And they hate you just for that reason
Just to get money
Let's go

I seen 'em blow it in the club like it was scammer money
Then watched it all disappear like MC Hammer money
2018, and the game expanded for me
2010 vision, I saw the game different
Nothing was handed to me
Eighteen on cell blocks, that's how I played out
But I ain't never count the days, I made the days count
Niggas judging what I did with mines 'cause they ain't never get it
I sold more dope than your boss, but I ain't have to in a minute

I broke bread with a snake, had him sleeping on a sofa
But you gotta keep him close, I fed pizzas to a vulture
Niggas even lied to God, disobedient like Jonah
I made every dollar count, I put my peoples on my shoulder
Only hustlers understand, so tell me, how can I explain?
I made it out my hood, but still a target 'cause of fame
I'm somewhere in my thoughts, it could be good, could be bad
Got everything I want, but still was good with what we had

I watched them blow right through it like they ain't like the money
Then make it right back like Mike Tyson money
Not just a bunch of dick riders, I'm knowing your style
Get on the net, say anything like Antonio Brown
You too broke to go to war, I'll punish you
Y'all got bitches with jobs and kids still in public school
I moved my family out on purpose, I got comfortable
I rode that drop through the city just to fuck with you

I broke bread with a snake, had him sleeping on a sofa
You gotta keep 'em close, I fed pizzas to a vulture
Niggas even lied to God, disobedient like Jonah
I made every dollar count, I put my peoples on my shoulder
Only hustlers understand, tell me, how can I explain?
I made it out my hood, but still a target 'cause of fame
I'm somewhere in my thoughts, could be good, could be bad
I got everything I want, but I was good with what we had

Hey dad, this Jerm
I'm just calling to tell you thank you
And most importantly, everybody still can't go


Writer(s): Rory William Quigley, Jeremie Pennick, Carvena Jones, Tamando Phiri, Jane't "jnay" Sewell-ulepic
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