Letra de ' The Warehouse 3 (feat. Black Soprano Family, Rick Hyde, Elcamino & Fuego Base) ' de Benny The Butcher

Summertime Butch'
Summertime Butch', y'all hear what's goin' on

I hope this rap shit is the answer, 'cause I got so many questions
Changin' channels, smokin' pressure, as I channel my aggression
This OG called me humble, I said: Nah, big bro, I'm thankful
Some niggas never make it out they city, it's so hateful
Lost my nigga Brick some time around the end of April
My brother need a hundred on the phone, but he can wait though
My patience gettin' thinner than the fabric on a rain coat
I turn you Albert Pujols, now you playin' with the angels
I take losses that would devestate, shit don't really get to me
You wanna know my mood or how I'm feelin'? Nigga, sit with me
Niggas pillow talkin' with the bitches, always sippin' tea
That bitch gon' be your downfall while you out here thinkin' differently
Off the rip, it was a fifty piece, never would they cripple me
Last year I hit it with the formula and tripled it
I ain't really fuckin' with you niggas, like it's bigotry
The second one was classic, wait until I drop the trilogy (Yo, yo)
It's Ricky, nigga, uh

Now I be havin' squares for 'em, I used to sell it to 'em hard
Finally signed a record deal, who knew the devil was a star?
I done finally found a hustle, I ain't gotta sell to one with jaws
I made eighty percent legal, 'cause I still be breakin' laws
If they run up in this bitch, man, they gon' nail me to the cross
If they run up in my crib and go too far, they might get lost
I'ma catch you on the camera, got some brand new shits in store
Gotta look good on camera, we told Cannon in the mall
Nigga, it's BSF, so you better be on your best
I could easily go pop me a Perc' and be on your steps, uh
We all we got, but it's more like we all that's left of the real
These niggas hate through whatever, it's becomin' a skill
While niggas makin' these threats, I hope they makin' they will
Be smart, nigga

Stained a rapper for his trash chain
Excuse my absence from the rap game, I was in the crack game
Question, do I rap or sell better?
Plastic bag over the gun, that's a homemade shell catcher (Uh)
Grease the homie's JPay so that they jail better
As good as this bitch look, she should smell better (Hahaha)
Got the kind of heart it take to face monsters (Uh)
Punch Unc' in the throat, he owed me eight dollars (Uh)
A wire'll leave our fate bothered
Free YSL, I hope we ain't the next crew that the Jake's conquer
Pretty sure your tale less gory
Uh, this Ashyville nigga a success story (Yo)

Picture white Jesus hangin', that's how you hide the wall safe
At trial with a bitch lawyer and we fuckin' on a court date (Uh-huh)
As men, we come in peace, but if it's beef, that's tomahawk steak
We do Porsche vs. Ferrari like the Kentucky Derby horse race
No sleepin' on an off-day, y'all make mistakes that the boss can't
You trapped (Uh-uh)
It's hard to get me out that bitch like when a dog mate (Ah)
Caught your homie in a lie, you gotta treat it like a heartbreak
G-Money lied to Nino and don't forget, Tony crossed Frank
Them broke nigga excuses, I'm startin' to get allergic (I'm allergic)
How niggas want me to catch, clean, cook the food and serve it?
Shorty slid for a coke, that's all he wanted, I said: You earned it
Then heard he did another one while wearin' it, I said: Now burn it
Uh, I treasure this AP, now wear it with my nuts swingin' (I got to)
Success might be different for you, dependin' on your upbringin'
Sopranos don't explain shit, I gave y'all enough reasons
All summer '24, we've seen a Cybertruck and Trump bleedin', BSF

Summertime Butch'
These are the real Sopranos