Intro
(Summertime Butch)

Verse 1: Westside Gunn
Ayo, power drove the fiend up the stove in Garçon
If you need me, l be in my cell on the phone
Jorts KAPITALs, you see the bones, I'm in the Rolls (Skrrt)
Might be the first drug dealer on the Vogue
Mule panicking, cause she late, I told her, "Andalé"
Maison Miharas with the scuffs all through Lama Ray (Ah)
My Benz steering wheel on the right, shooter on the left
The first who make 'em overdose, dope be the best
Goyard satchеls with the blick, leaving out the Ritz
Chips and lеase on the shopping spree, just me and your bitch (Woo)
I bought me everything, I ain't buy her shit
Hermes crocodile sandals stepping on a brick (SUPER FLYGOD)
Thirty-six to forty-four, shit, more is more
My man mom died, he in the cell, when it rains, it pours

Interlude: Benny The Butcher
You must be a very wealthy man
Well, I ain't got no squawk, no squawk at all
Do you have any feelings on remorse about being in this business?
No, I have no feelings of conscious, because
To me, it’s a business
The same as the man with a liquor store
He sells his whiskey to alcoholics
To him, it’s a business
I sell my drugs to drug addicts
It’s all a profit
Ahh, yeah, yeah, yo, uh

Verse 2: Benny The Butcher
'Fuck is the state of rap?
Same shit they've been trying to act since Pac died
And B.I.G. left and the gang went a lil' lop side on the pop side
And not cry, it's elementary that you add some entries to your top five
'Cause evidently l'm in my prime
Doing better than them who done got signed
But it cost me, how else can I put it?
They forced me, bullets and coffee
I cheated the game, it felt good as adultery
Asked the last label, l'm a rap saver
I'm a cash major, l'm a mad strangler
I'm a cash cow and a stack saver
We could chat now, or we could chat later
I made my wrist lock
Then made a movie 'bout it like the black Alfred Hitchcock
Interrogation room
I be so quiet in it that you might hear a pin drop
What's the state of rap?
Same shit they've been trying to act since Will Smith
And Jazzy Jeff, I sold real bricks, I still don't got no real hits
But cocaine still give thrills, white girl, real "Kill Bill" shit
I get chills when I close deals
Made a quarter mil' off some chill shit
I get the pill, I'm tryna bang like I'm O'Neal
You just Josh Childress
I show you jits 'round the money
I'll take you lil' niggas on a field trip
Got a Yachtmaster on a yacht
Nigga we are not rappers, all the cops past them
And they drop faster than a time traveler
And my watch flashing like I'm arm-wrestling
But you like the senior, with bad grades
And I'm the dean, I'm thinking why cap ya
Couch potato with an iPad and a mic so, now, you a podcaster
They hit they ceilings, I'm booked in Paris
Let's get to business (Let's get to business)
Two-hundred fifty in hundreds to count it
It take her ten minutes (Maybe eight)
Fuck is the state of rap?
Same shit they've been trying to act since Eazy-E
Only street niggas gon' agree with me
I'm just a rich nigga with a GED

Outro: Benny The Butcher
Big Butch, ah