GiGis Westside Gunn (Ft. Benny the Butcher)

[Intro: Benny the Butcher]
Yeah, yeah, uh-huh, uh-huh, ah
Yeah, yeah, uh-huh, uh-huh
Hitler shit, Hitler 6, Griselda, nigga
Butcher coming, nigga
Uh-huh, uh-huh, ayy, brrt
Uh-huh, uh-huh, yo, look

[Verse 1: Benny the Butcher]
Woke up, phone buzzing, hangover with my Rollie on
A text from a bitch that I'm fucking, but I don't know no more
I rap, but I trap, turn my spot to a yola store
Quarter brick of trash, I brought it back, cooked the soda off (The chef, nigga)
Who turned a half a ki' to matching minks? (Me)
Catching beef over blocks and washing racks in the bathroom sink (Let's go)
My brother the shooter, I'm Master P (Uh)
'Cause I ran it up, but all I did was pop the trunk on the SUV
Hitler shit, put rappers to sleep like a hypnotist (Uh)
Catch a knockdown and get a stripe like a certificate (Certificate)
Yeah, they got me feeling like the black Sinatra
Bag the block up, next to a ratchet and a glass of vodka (Uh)
Yeah, we hustlers in coupes with small backseats (Skrrt)
That grew around smugglers with loot with long rap sheets
Blocks landing, coming in groups and it's all tax free (All tax free)
'Cause drug dealers get treated like star athletes
Let's go, ah