Drug Rap Smoke DZA & Benny The Butcher

[Intro: Smoke DZA]
Ya doin' wrong by your people, man
Told Trig you should cut his ass
Yeah, uh

[Verse 1: Smoke DZA]
Stay on point, hope you cover your hand (Uh)
I don't question the unknowns, it was all in the plans
Niggas' morals be fucked up, they blamin' the Xans
You told on a nigga who told on a nigga who told on your mans (What?)
Whole lot of finger pointin', bunch of Uncle Sams (Uh)
Four of you niggas and you couldn't cop a 100 grams (Uh)
My man had the butter tan
Back in the happy days, back in the varsity, the Richie Cunningham
I hear the gossip, if huddles could kill
I keep it classy, they don't want my rebuttals, for real
You know the kid got diamond in reach, palmin' the beat
Break this whole box down, make sure all of us eat (Uh)
You a scumbag, lyin' to your peeps, lyin' to me
Four sealers in the spot, we ain't been shoppin' in weeks (Right)
Your pop still a busta, he just cop on the sneak
Reportin' live from the streets, fly as can be

[Chorus: Smoke DZA]
Yeah, thank God for drug rap (Right)
Met a new transpo to bring the bud back (Uh)
Got it covered from all angles
My pet peeve is all singles
Thank God for drug rap (Right)
Met a new plug, better number on dub packs (Uh)
Got it covered from all angles (Uh)
My pet peeve is all singles