B.E.N.N.Y. the Butcher (Benny The Butcher) - Hell on Earth, Pt. 2 lyrics

[Intro: Westside Gunn] FLYGOD Ayo [Verse 1: Westside Gunn] Left the kitchen drenched, so much remixin', we vicious Out in Oakland in the Rolls (Skrrt), might've been one of Felix's Stuck with a dealer's mentality Bricks on top of squares on the bed, we worth a God figure salary Got the dope stench stuck in the walls, Dior goggles (Ah) When I bag the dope, I'm reekin' of Creed The gold bottle, drinkin' gold bottles, gun on my hip I'm not a role model, bullets in the air, I'll make your soul follow (Boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom) I win the lotto in Tulum, caught him in the shower Beat him with a mop and broom (Ah), his chopper's in the locker room (Doot doot doot doot doot doot doot doot doot doot doot doot doot) We doing operations, ni**as left the zippers (Ah) I'm in the X7, whole neck glitter (Skrrt) A cold world make the TEC shiver (Doot doot doot doot doot doot doot doot doot doot doot doot doot), don't contest that (Ah) I be at where you rest at So many chains on, b*tches askin' where my neck at (Where your neck at, ni**a?) The band on the Patek black, my ni**a blew the trial Heard he got max in the supermax, word is I'm diesel like Luger Turned one to three and yelled "Hallelujah" [Interlude: Sample] Hallelujah, Hallelujah We're going to see the king, ah, ah, ah [Verse 2: Benny the Butcher] It's crazy that I'm still talkin' yola, made a brick do yoga I know 'bout hard white and them ex-con flights to Oklahoma A pale heart, I'm Dale Earnhardt with a smokin' motor Black Sopranos, I took the oath full of Cosa Nostra Did it my way, I got the most of these culture vultures You gotta pay me what you owe, or nope, I won't consult ya I did more numbers with half your budget, I hope it woke ya I put a brick on my block and a yacht in the open ocean A felon, I've been convicted, irrelevant what I'm spendin' But what matter is I'm doin' better than what's predicted, mmm Should've got a Grammy nod, but fu*k it though 'cause Royce and Freddie family ties Frank Lucas video, the Miami vibe This life crazy, every minute someone recordin' you They ask me if I feel famous now, ni**a, of course I do Corporate moves, my office and my business resources grew Took the long road, you ni**as lookin' for shortcuts through Expose who, ni**a? I'm hood as a gold tooth Hold two joints in the whip when I roll through the toll booth I heard the albums ni**as just put out, yeah, those cute But I'm the best, TT3, B.O.P, those proof The Butcher, ni**a [Verse 3: Conway the Machine] Look Jordan pack 5s, gun metal somethin' special Used to serve yay, wordplay on Big Pun level (Woo) Smoke come out the barrel when the gun settled (Brr) Know some gangstas in Arizona playin' the field like the Sun devil (Ha) I put some diamonds in hon' bezel, it's dumb yellow (Uh-huh) I got a shooter in the New York, I call him Young Melo (Hahahaha) I got some rope in the trunk, tape and one shovel Long money, talkin' billions, ni**a, and I want several (Talk to 'em) Ain't worried 'bout them ni**as, all them ni**as puss' ni**as dickridin' rappers real hard to get a look (They pussy) I used to hustle on Doat Street, the carbon in the bush Baggin' up at this fiend house, she shootin' doggie in her foot, ah I bought some water, watch how salty ni**as look Sneak dissin', same ni**as used to call me for a hook, right? (Ha) I thought these ni**as crooks, why all these ni**as shook? Griselda, we took sh*t over like how long it really took? (Uh-huh) Look, my city is the wildest (Ha), I know ni**as up in islands (Wo) Spin the yard, pull up bar, big as Iguodala (Yeah) And lately I've been gettin' bigger dollars, talkin' digits with the commas (Talk) If it's smoke, we spinnin', b*tch, I promise (Brr) Look, duckin' and hidin' only get you bigger problems 'Cause if it take too long to find you, then we visitin' your mama, ni**a (Hahahaha) Yeah, I know them killers up in Dallas Street ni**a for real, boy, my trigger finger callused (Boom boom boom boom boom) I see them pictures, them ni**as need a stylist People ridin' my dick, leaving opinions in my comments, ni**a (Them ni**as pussy though) I get my chef on, any career I step on The fu*k I look like puttin' a dress on? [Outro: Conway the Machine] Is you fu*king crazy, ni**a? Machine, b*tch Out your fu*king mind, ni**a