Letra Thruway music 2 Benny The Butcher

Thruway music 2

Because niggas are still in the streets
Niggas are still doing what they do
So, you know, niggas tended back to that

Huh, y'all, it ain't no secret that I really found plugs
And showed the town love
I put it down before I had a underground buzz
I ain't do all this hard work to be around thugs
I'm in the Barclay Crown Club getting my child grub
Loud bud, got it out mud, they got my house bugged
They ran in four Philly cribs and never found drugs, huh
This four pound snub, will leave ya ground dug
It's ground hogs in my backyard and brown cubs
Put it all on my vision board, then I hit record
When you stay down with your dogs, this is the reward
We was poor, no furniture, sitting on the floor
Fast forward, me and my son, sitting on the floors
I ain't budge when they try to throw a bag at me
Y'all can go ahead, laugh at me
I refuse to let these record labels lab rat me
I got a brick for every bump on your face
And y'all niggas got bad acne
Re-up was a weekly move
In 06, we had bricks in the PT crews
Wearing jewels with no gun, gotta teach these fools
But y'all done shed enough blood to fill a three feet pool
If you was really in these streets, then we'd be cool
My life made completely for the TV tube
I know crackheads that look like the ET dude
And I could turn a half a square to a 3
D cube, trust

I'm steady winning, you don't see me bored, you see the score
We turn beef the rest in peace murals, graffiti wars
The spot I'm in, I couldn't dream of more
But this game is hard to love it feel like siblings that you ain't meet before
And I'm still moving merch, so imagine that stopping
Nigga I really sold white, 50 pallets of cotton
I'm teaching class, I'm glad y'all been watching
Got your stash in my pocket
Off serving white like I'm basking in robins
It's for my niggas ducking drug bids
That was us at Cubs crib
On bricks in the room, stacked up like bunk beds
I got a soft heart, I love kids
I've been the best connect
I helped make niggas rich as they plugs did
I'm from the crack era where pitching wasn't easy
Ain't no table in the house
Sit that Digi on the TV
Little snot nose, I come for 50 if you need me
Block slow, feeling like Adidas, sitting on them Yeezys
I'm not into that
I know about y'all tricking on them Breezes
Wrist chilling, looking like I'm pouring crystals from a Fiji
My street laws, we gon' rock, so ain't no pictures when you see me
And weak floors at the top just mean you're ceiling more squeaky
Butch