lirik lagu struggle mike, black soprano family & benny the butcher – not one boss
[intro: duffle bag hottie]
bring the beat up somethin’
f~ck wrong with these n~ggas, man?
don’t care if it take twenty takes
i’m here, n~gga
uh, go
sh~t they wanna hear, right?
[verse 1: duffle bag hottie]
i just parked the foreign on your bm lungs (skrrt)
she hit my l!cks too and she ain’t with you, and she on my bum (facts)
they only f~ck with you, it’s beneficial, them is not my sons (that’s facts)
i said, i don’t bite my tongue, you wanna drive broke, n~gga hold my gun
i really play with them bricks (i did), i put that on my son (yeah)
i really play with them sticks, got shot in the back and it scarred my lungs (boom)
i really chopped out the bill with the ak, i really served my moms (i did)
i really stayed down with a street walker, gave that whole b~tch crumbs (i did)
i really ran up some money, that’s why your lil’ b~tch give me cudi, yeah, yeah
certain n~ggas actin’ funny, but that’s what just comes with the money, yeah, yeah
my bsf chain is flooded, i’m walkin’ ’round, doin’ the doggy, yeah, yeah
all the plugs tryna front me, the old me would’ve walked him (yeah, yeah)
these n~ggas keep droppin’ up samples, plugged, not matchin’ my standards (how, what you do?)
i drop a block in the pot, and whip it up, like it was scrambled (yeah, yeah)
i got my lil’ man on the scanner, and my b~tch watchin’ all the cameras (b~tch)
and i’m gettin’ busy in my wife beater, while i’m tryna whip all of these crumbs up
[chorus: benny the butcher]
uh, everybody capo’s, it ain’t only one boss
at the trap, it’s three foreigns on the front lawn (skrrt)
i’m checkin’ numbers, let me count it out (count it out)
i got bands all around the house (count it out)
hundred dollar n~ggas, million dollar dreams (dollar dreams)
we was hustlers, we came up with million dollar schemes (uh)
we was trappin’, everybody knew (what happened?)
i put my b~tch in some [?] too
[verse 2: benny the butcher]
look, i met with connects and i met other bosses (facts)
and i done bought baguettes, yeah, i done flooded crosses (uh~huh)
took a couple losses, a few double~crossed us (crossed us)
lost my homies, i done cried over a couple coffins (i miss my n~ggas)
i’m just playin’ the hand they dealt me, that’s the man it made me (yeah)
i built a house of cards, i’m like kevin sp~cey
opened up a trap, that made the feds investigate me (d~mn)
but i don’t got regrets, that’s how i fed the baby
text the b~tch, like “hurry up, ’cause i ain’t waitin’ all night for you”
the street dirty and your feet hurt, when you wear shoes with the spikes on ’em (uh)
you play the streets like me, you gon’ need a microwave and some iced water (uh~huh)
a loyal client with a nice order (what else?), some shooters and a high~price lawyer
i’m feelin’ like, father, forgive me, chasin’ the sour, with bottles of henny
your b~tch lookin’ for me, i’m not in the city, no, i’m not trump, but she politic with me
too hard to see when i got on these fendi’s, so i put a beam on the top of the semi (baow)
you lead a lie, then hear the shot, then tell ’em “cut off the top of the bentley”, yeah, yeah
[chorus: benny the butcher]
uh, everybody capo’s, it ain’t only one boss
at the trap, it’s three foreigns on the front lawn (skrrt)
i’m checkin’ numbers, let me count it out (count it out)
i got bands all around the house (count it out)
hundred dollar n~ggas, million dollar dreams (dollar dreams)
we was hustlers, we came up with million dollar schemes (uh)
we was trappin’, everybody knew (what happened?)
i put my b~tch in some [?] too
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