💃🎤 Paroles de chanson Française et Internationnales 🎤💃

 A   B   C   D   E   F   G   H   I   J   K   L   M   N   O   P   Q   R   S   T   U   V   W   X   Y   Z   0   1   2   3   4   5   6   7   8   9 
Artiste : Benny The Butcher
Titre : Pound For Pound
[John Gotti]
I don´t think, pound for pound
I don´t think there´s a more sincere, better guy in this fuckin´ world than me
Th-the more for everybody

You could see-see what I got, you could see what I got compared to what other people got
And I can´t believe what I read and what I hear
I don´t know who this guy is that they´re talking about
Maybe somebody could introduce me to him someday
I don´t believe ´em

[Berner & Mozzy]
I told Benny I got plenty
Machine, what up?
Mozzy, Gangland

[Berner]
They treat us like pharaohs, AK with two barrels
Used to have a bitch sellin´ pussy for mе on O´Farrell
In the middle of thе candle, there´s a twenty grand stack

Heat the glass, pull the wax out, and cut that bitch in half
Carbon paper ´round the paper, makin´ fifty stack flimsy
Feelin´ like a magazine, sendin´ cash gets tricky
I´m bags not blicky
No smalls in the pack
When they froze the bank account, I thought I would fall back
I miss Encrochat, used to wipe my phone clean
Three times a week, different level to the stream
Throw a few Gs on each, I´m somewhere out of reach
When the phone loses service, I´ll be back in town with heat
My old plug out in Maryland, got caught up with some heroin
Controlled buy at the four-point Sheridan

Fuck a snitch, let ´em die slowly
Around here I´m the big homie, the top ??? only

[Mozzy]
Yeah
The opposition ain´t no competition
Loaded chopper in this Honda Civic, I stay on top of business
It´s sneak dissin´ when you not specific
The DA gave that boy a deal, he turned it down, he´s very optimistic
Perpetrator, baby, not the victim
We unforgiven when it come to trippin´, it spit out double digits
You want this Pacquiao? Then come and get it
I put them boogers ´round my Granny Goose referrin´ to this flooded image
It´s hard to leave ´em when you love the trenches

Where was the love when I locked and you ain´t come to visit?
They cracked the code, went through the phone and ain´t find nothin´ in it
You touch a ticket then you tuck a ticket
Tell ´em run the trinket, yeah
We money motivated, fuck these bitches
We pull up at back to back to back in all these younger Benzes
I never ratted, that´s a fact, it ain´t no smut on niggas
Said all this hustlin´ got me up on niggas
What´s up with niggas?

[Conway the Machine]
Street nigga since a young boy, knee-deep in the game
Cookin´ up before school, school clothes reekin´ of ´caine

Always keep it a hunnid, you better keep it the same
Niggas´ll rest in peace you just for a small piece of my chain
Need to refrain from ever speakin´ my name
Call my shooter, Method Man, one call, he bringin´ the pain
Say they just your homeboys while police think you a gang
The people can´t wait to hit you with RICO, think it´s a game
And the feds applyin´ pressure to the weakest link in your chain
Now listen to the weakened chief in a unbelievable strain (Talk to ´em)
Say they shooters, believe you me, we do the same
Scopin´ a beam on that mop, I´m just increasin´ my aim (Yeah)

Nobody do it how we do it
Educated, luxury, coke rap, street music
The impossible? You seen Machine do it
Made fifty off a thousand dollar pounds of mid, those the G-Units

[Styles P]
Tell niggas, "Cut it out," they barely got heart
Tell ´em, "Cut it out," hoppin´ out the coupe, gun butt ´em out
Throw ´em in the passenger, maybe it´s the Porsche
Or NSX Acura, let me be accurate
Money in the vacuum in a house made to clap at ya
Fuck about your shooter
Me? I got a homie that´ll throw you off the roof
Vaycay in Aruba, he could dog food uzi in a Uber
I been outside since Dougie Fresh, Slick Rick the Ruler

Violate? That´s a shot to your medula, point-blank
I could run the point
Take my points, that´s how point rank (That´s how I rank)
Nevermind all this plug lingo
The Ringo, hellcat engine, I would have dubbed Nino (I would have dubbed him)
If this was New Jack City, I would have shot him in the face, brought the crew back with me
Yeah
From the first to the thirty-first, we outside doin´ dirty work
If you got it from the mud, you was dirty first

[Benny the Butcher]
The Butcher comin´, nigga
When this rap shit over, I at least need twenty out it, M´s

So I´ma need less friends and more money counters
Perfect life for who? That´s what y´all think?
That´s funny, how? ´Cause I´m stressed
I guess I just don´t deal with no money problems (Money ain´t a problem)
How to make a million dollars? Guess I´m the perfect example of it
Well, streets guided me this far, so how can´t I love it? (How can´t I?)
I used to take three hundred grams and cut it (Yeah)
I trafficked strapped, pistol tucked down my belt line with a handle rubbin´
On my white boy shit at the Mandalay chuggin´ beers (Yup)
Brought a chip to my town like a Tampa Bay Buccaneer (Griselda)
Niggas say they ´bout to drop but got nothin´ I wanna hear (Ha ha ha)

Your first mistake was probably thinkin´ I fuckin´ care
They was out to get the squad but look at us now, it´s too late
Alphabet garage, C-L-S, R-T, Q-8
"Fuck the streets, you a rapper," That´s how my plug used to tell it to me
Fell out when I wanted a quarter-brick and he wouldn´t sell it to me (Sell it to me)
Fuck ´em
The Butcher comin´, nigga

[ John Gotti]
Dictated that I take each course I took
I didn´t have any multiple choice
Black and ??? hair
??? five hundred dollars in this ???

That was the only door open