lirik lagu statik selektah - no substitute
[intro: benny the butcher]
uh
let’s go
ayo, statik you a fool for this sh~t
uh
my n~gga paul hit me and said it’s a go
the butcher coming, n~gga
ah
[verse 1: benny the butcher]
before this rap sh~t i was used to cash flow
diplomatic like i’ve been introduced to castro
every line i spit sh~t that they knew was factual
my next contract got me like the houston astros
i’m a hustler, my pursuit for the loot was natural
sold dope, weed, and coke, i even grew tobacco
having a n~gga locked down eating soups and mackere
but you wouldn’t know a brick if i threw one past you, uh
i multitask when i’m cookin’ the dope (uh)
with one arm and a pot and foot on their throats
n~ggas talk about cash, when i look and they broke (where their monеy at?)
you put these rap n~ggas up against butch’ and they chokе (uh)
i gave my little n~ggas clips and they still on they posts
every bar like a lesson they put in their notes (got that?)
i’m a king, i’m a lion, but good as the goat
steppin’ on the work, i have my foot on the snow
look, i was broke, now i flex hard
i’ma get mine and rick hyde will pick up where i left off
all the critics gon’ wonder how i crept off
retire, startin’ my own line of pyrex jaw
look, n~ggas know my status abroad
never challenge the squad league, bullet holes in your passenger door (brrrr)
get a house to put a fortune in the mattress and walls
you n~ggas not f~ckin’ with me, statik and paul, let’s go
[verse 2: paul wall]
the quickest way to go broke is do nothin’
that’s why i’m 25/8 eye scutchin’
multiple hustles i’m jugglin’, nothin’ but punchin’
tryna stack up more bread than a lunchin’
i’m on a path tryin’ to avoid self~destruction
i got a lot of guns, but got even more [?]
what’s the function? big bro got jammed up at customs
plus he sp~nked more money than he made [?] buggin’
say, i’d rather work too hard than not hard enough
laziness i rebuff, on point of the cuff
on my hustle, ease my mind off of puff
head on a swivel, but sick f~cks gone off the dust
got that from mike rap’, what’s up, bro?
my grind is near the peak like puff coke
on the way to buffalo, keep that on the hush though
i’m out here tryna get this scrooge mcduck dough
but look, yo
one man’s treasure is another someone’s scaps
like king tut, let’s keep it under wraps
airtight burrough rap, on the way perhaps
they tryna hold me down like jon “bones” jones on the mat
fake friends come and go quicker than a prostitute
but i don’t want a fiction, i just want a lot salute
the haters obsolete because the truth is absolute
hard work a attribute, for that there’s no substitute
[interlude: paul wall]
you know what i’m talkin’ ’bout? there’s no substitute for hard work. you got to be there every day. no missed days, no tardies. got to be present if you want that a~ type of paper, you feel me?
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