Broken Bottles

Griselda, we where the smoke at, ay

Facts, nigga

I told him, I said, "West, call me when you want the dirty work done"

Feeling hot already

Yo, let's go, look, yo

I got a large bag of clips, hard hats, and sticks

My squad tagging shit, y'all catch attempts

You leave the house, have some sense, nigga, grab the blick

My lil homie left without it and I ain't get to dap him since

My slime think we homies so he call me Bloody

It's a blessing when your plug let you short him 20

On parole, I was going all in with ten

These funny hustlers out here owing more than they spend

She fuck with you, you buy her a Chanel watch

She fly out with twelve blocks, I buy her a nail shop

I listened to the lies in their lines that they tell, shocked

Six months before I signed, had a pie in the mailbox

I heard they sick about me rapping 'bout the drugs I stretch

I'ma write a whole album 'bout the plugs I met

Uh, my dog came home, we told him, "Welcome back"

First day out, bought a .40 and a Griselda tag

I don't got no new friends, that's how you get loose ends

I need that Benz truck, yeah, that great white with two fins

Major deal for what? Uh, that's gon' cost him two Ms

Truth is, I'ma clear a half a million before New Years

These lil niggas satisfied with BAPE outfits

I need a Wraith out it, big shit, lake houses

I'm talking condos just for safe houses, Space Mountain

I'm tryna see so much bread, I gotta take counselling

Y'all like these rappers, but I don't find it amusing, no

I don't buy they movement, so I don't buy their music

I wrote get rich manuals where I provide the blueprint

And with pride, I preach this new shit, just like I'm inside a pulpit

Top of the year, I came and woke these niggas up

Made they names sound different when I spoke these niggas up

I stay hungry just laying my hustle down

Ain't no fucking around with Benny and Uncle Al

Griselda, the Butcher coming, nigga

In this game, you take some losses, I was straight, I ate with bosses

On my plate, that yay was flawless, we out in Vegas racing Porsches

My dawgs laid in coffins, one died in a shootout

No bullets left, he got slept tryna change his cartridge

Caught my nephew with some work

I guess he caught himself trapping with it

I said, "Just know the consequences if they catch you with it

Nah, I ain't mad you dealing, hit me, I send it at you, nigga

And show you how to ship it with bubble wrap and a vacuum sealer"

The Butcher coming, y'all know the motto

Those Sopranos had fiends smoking white out Sprite soda bottles

Mob boss like I'm Joe Todaro

My dollars long and my plug got a farm like he Old MacDonald

I'm the boss, so where they go, they follow

It's penalties for touching me

So just be careful where you throw them hollows

I sold dope like it was no tomorrow

That got me cash and my watch glass like it's made of broken bottles

The Butcher coming, nigga