Black&White Rap's video: Conway Benny The Butcher - Spurs 2

Year 2017 [Verse 1: Conway] Look, my brother ain't gotta rap no more, I got it covered You see we bringin' these streets back, you gotta love it Niggas clap me, that's why the ratchet I gotta lugg' it Told Camino bring a lot of dutches while I jot a fuckin' classic I got me a badder Rollie, I got it flooded Bitches love me like LL when I rock the bucket Don't think it's sweet, I'll have this chopper bustin' out in public Empty the stick, broad day, niggas said I was buggin' We got this shit poppin' without a budget When you speak the best in the game, my name you gotta discuss it (?) rushin', you said it's a problem, let's get to the bottom of it Then shots erupted, fuck it Tesla X with the doors lifted More Steroids, that's more sickness More her-on and more bricks in More AK's with 30 shots or more clips in (talk to 'em) The Lord is my witness Heard the homie was snitchin', but shit that ain't my man Sometimes you gotta cut off a finger to save your hand Damn, hate to see his face or even shake his hand Sometimes I wanna have him clapped, it only take a gram Look, I'll embarrass you on your block Stomp you bloody in my Baleicaga low tops I whip a whole block, then momma owe pops Uhh, cocaine resi' on momma stove top, Machine bitch [Verse 2: Benny] Yo, ay look Where I'm from nobody drug free, but the drugs cheap We sell 'caine at NFL games, we sit in club seats The hate strong, but the love weak That's why we buy a lot of guns, say fuck Donald Trump, but we love Meech Nigga, I treat the trap like I'm in a office Stack and pray they come ask for H like it's Wheel of Fortune I can't trust niggas, I'm feelin' cautious This life only fit for bosses, I'm pennin' thoughts while I fill a cartridge Ain't nothin' Hollywood, I'm still in the trenches MAC extended like the John Wall deal with the Wizards I burn you, I'm like the Colonel, I got a meal with a biscuit The raw is clean, I'm Paula Deen, I got a feel for the kitchen Yeah, I terminate rappers, so I think it's ironic I'm with the Machine, I'm feelin' like John Connor Out in Miami in the high rises, I seen prices sky rocket Numbers goin' up like hydraulics We strapped, so we ain't askin' if a ratchet round Shooters graduate to killers, then they get a cap and gown When I'm back in town, niggas know the pack in town If you open, then I toss it, I'm Joe Flacco now I was on the upstate bus, feet shackled down Took it like a man when the judge slammed the gavel down Crumpled money from the fiends, we was up late Nigga, I really cut a brick out of duct tape They don't call me the Butcher for nothin' In my bitch kitchen, whippin' tryin' to cook up a onion Real gang shit, everybody with us a hunnid I'm the dopest, I'm the poet with the look of a hustler, Butcher All rights and credits goes to the artists. I do not own this song. This channel is non-profit. Please Support your artists!