Letra Who are you Benny The Butcher

Who are you

Uh, I ain't gon' even lie
I be having things on my mind all of the time
That I think I need and I be knowing that I ain't gon' even buy
I'ma probably just rob and scheme
Man, I'ma rob you in a ride so clean
I ain't even gon' rob you blind, nigga, I'ma rob you seen
I'm from a far side, no side you done seen
Y'all slaves to y'all own mind
And I'ma just play apartheid with your queen
Mean, I ain't gon' even lie
Yo' bitch badder than a bag full of new cash of that rare tender
Ever since she got that new ass that she been draggin'
Fam, she done been The Last Airbender
Coming around here in them yoga pants
Fuck making a pass at her, I'm past that
Man, that bitch could have my whole advance
I might even have to go against my better judgement
Say fuck it and hold her hand, damn, I ain't gon' even lie
Sunflower seeds the only time you probably see shells fly
Violence be right in my driveway, by a nigga mailbox
I don't know why I keep I ain't gon' lie, man, I don't even tell lies

Niggas be claiming that they bleed loyalty
Niggas be saying that they come from royalty
But who are you?
Who are you?

Yo, look
There's wisdom in my words but some men can't see it
Thinking they gon' find the truth in that shit they reading
My pen stay bleeding, this the pain from them days
I spent sitting next to moms in them N.A. meetings
Knowing she gon' smoke again, first of the month
We was rolling and by time the fourth came, we was broke again
So the dope man fed us, we gram sellers
I'm more Manual Noreaga than Mandela
They want me in a jam like I don't know no damn better
Crammed in a three-man cell, skimming through fan letters
Like what the fuck I'm doing here in the first place?
When all the weed burn out, I'm in my worst shape
I think I'm cursed, wait, damn
Brand new pistol, I'm dying to take that bitch out like a first date
When it's my turn, watch the game get shifted
My brain the sickest, so every line pain inflicted
My brother went out like dark-skinned Jermaine, I miss him
He had a bullet with his name in the chamber, sitting
I hang with spitters but really got my name in kitchens
So I do it for them niggas with that same ambition
This the part where bitches and the cars get faster
The richer these rappers get, it's like the bars get trasher
I'm the wrong rapper niggas wanna target after
I'm like Bob Backlund mixed in with Marvin Hagler
The butcher

Niggas be claiming that they bleed loyalty
Niggas be saying that they come from royalty
But who are you?
Who are you?