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Track: Goodnight
Artist: Benny The Butcher
Album: Tana Talk 3

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Name: Benny The Butcher
Spotify Genres: boom bap, east coast hip hop
Followers: 523,434
Popularity:

61/100

Biography

US rapper

Source: MusicBrainz Disambiguation

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Source: MusicBrainz

LYRICS

Yeah, uh
You know what this is, right?
I don't really think y’all niggas ready
Yo, I sold a pack, then I sold it back, uh
We roll in Lacs and got fold up gats with shoulder straps
It's Griselda, bitch, y'all know the stats
I need my safe overflow with racks and a yacht with a speedboat attached
We watched niggas eating, now we getting even
We watched out mothers cry, but that just made us risk our freedom
The .40 blow, you get ripped to pieces, hit and leaking
Have your family in this bitch grieving, hugging pics of Jesus
My shit the deepest, my shit for thinkers, reachers
This shit you simple niggas probably couldn’t grip with tweezers
I took dope charges and I caught fed cases
We did stickups when we was kids and bought Playstations
Treat your bitch crib like a truck stop weigh station
Safe haven, if we trade places, that's a vacation
You know the science, my soldiers riot
And the best done got finessed, I threw ‘em curveballs [?]
Growing up, we was so defiant, holding iron
My chest poking out while I smoke the finest, you know you dying
We cold as iron, you show up with me, you know you buying
Uh, I take one brick and multiply it
The realest shit of life might be the realest shit I write
At the Knicks game, so close, I'm spilling shit on Spike
And I'm killing shit on spite, uh, Glock 19 with the silencer, nigga
And I just twisted it on type with the MAC

Yo, yo, yo, yo, yo (Yeah)
Yo, yo, yo, yo, yo (Goodnight)
Yo, yo, yo, yo, yo (Y'all niggas, y'all ain't ready)
Yo, yo, yo, yo, yo

Listen, dawg, we really came from grave conditions
Ran the trap like offence and I'm Lane Kiffin
Waiting on the law, for Chris Paul, guess I’m Blake Griffin
The TEC shoot from AK distance, so I can’t miss ya
Yeah, it's me, I make these niggas feel like I’m a problem
Don't like you, we wilding, opposed to drinking right from the bottle
Rock the Gucci polo with the snake right on the collar
‘Lo top, blue 9s with the white on the bottom
Niggas hurt, they in they feelings, they don't like how I'm styling
Got a bitch bad as Rihanna, got her right from the island
I been in prison fights where niggas got sliced and then holler
We broke bread and shared blood just like we Italian, uh
We was Nextelers, now we XXLers
Making deal with label execs, our check mailers
One of the best, that’s a bet, I don't swear, never
I can read a sucker nigga like a New York bestseller
We jetsetters, street niggas, we just dress better
Eating lamb, ain't no dressing on my salad, just feta
Gun plastic, vest metal, GxF Rebel
And we hitting family members, so you know it's next level, pussy

Yo, yo, yo, yo, yo (Goodnight)
Yo, yo, yo, yo, yo
Yo, yo, yo, yo, yo
Yo, yo, yo, yo, yo
Yo, yo, yo, yo, yo
Yo, yo, yo, yo, yo
Yo, yo, yo, yo, yo
Yo, yo, yo, yo, yo
Yo, yo, yo, yo, yo
Yo, yo, yo, yo, yo
Yo, yo, yo, yo, yo
Yo, yo, yo, yo, yo