Bfb Da Packman - Frenchmen lyrics

[Intro] The Lunch Crew Company, I'm part of that (Hahaha) Please don't ever use that, it's so embarrassing to me What, the Lunch Crew? Her The Lunch Crew Company [Verse 1: BFB Da Packman & Benny the Butcher] I-I-I just bought my b*tch a body (Yeah), her physique a façade Flashback to sellin' coke to my granddaddy, I'm in need of Allah (Yeah) Dope boys and diamonds don't go together, that sh*t be screamin' the law And Bobo told me, "If you go fed, don't repeat what you saw" You ni**as yeast, we don't need heat, we see that you soft (Yeah) I hid a pack under my stomach, wasn't no weed in my draws (Facts) I left Flint duckin' indictment, ended up beating the odds (Hello) And I got rich and there's still Camry's in my Fleeton garage (Woo) "Free Joe Exotic" got us rich when we was hustlin' for better (Yeah) Tellin' my dawg I love him before he meet his plug in the desert (I love you) He made it back with more work, business be good, but I'm stressin' (Yeah) 'Cause I had thoughts, they filled the flaw and they was really gon' stretch 'em (Facts) That's a rhyme, 5th grade, is you a thug or not? (Okay) fu*k robbin' and shootin', I'd rather hug the block Bobo showed me how to maneuver, not even my fu*kin' pops My real dad was like, "fu*k my son, I'd rather hug a rock" (Ooh) No more dissin' that ni**a, come on, let's switch the subject 'Cause when I spit my truths someway, somehow I piss off my mother I'm raw and uncut, I'd even fu*k a distant cousin Put my dick between two b*tches lips and make them kiss each other (Mwah) You might catch me out in Silicon Valley (Yeah) With Sketcher flip-flops, Nike hoodie, never rockin' no Bali (Yeah) On the phone talkin' to my guy, I'm just happy he smilin' The fent' overdosed the fiend and feds hit him with the body (The Butcher comin', ni**a) (The Lunch Crew Company) [Verse 2: Benny the Butcher] I'm givin' ni**as this work, clip send you ni**as to church I bump into my old opps, they like, "Send a ni**a some merch"(fu*k outta here) They see my whips and start tryna guess what I get for a verse (Huh?) The IRS wanna break down what each of my syllables worth ni**as ain't catchin' up (Nah) I collected so much paper and delivered enough brown Now my whip like a FedEx truck, mm My dawg crushin' Xanax pills in a 7-Up He fell in love with some hood rat pussy and she set him up (Felt bad for him) They don't value respect no more (Nah), only bands That's crazy, I know a mail lady with an OnlyFans I'm on the cam rollin' dutches out turkey bags on the 'Gram I'm goin' live leakin' sh*t off my album just for the fans, nah I don't TikTok, so don't ask me to start a dance (You know I don't do that sh*t) Unless these big rocks doin' a bu*terfly on my hands Vintage Gucci collection with bu*terflies on my pants I could cook a brick of dope with rope double tied to my hands, yeah I hit Packman and said, "You nice, yeah, I'll give you that" (I fu*k with you) Plus you gettin' rich, can't believe you ain't fu*k Lizzo yet (Not yet) But y'all gon' bust U-turns when it's your time, depend on that These rappers shoot vids then they give they jewels and the rental back Stackin' paper, I been on that But they broke, mm, we figured that I push the kinda whips that she gotta fu*k if she sit in that, yeah I was sellin' 'caine on the realest streets Now I'm a legend, so I'ma sell my 'caine on an NFT, let's go (Let's go, let's go, let's go, let's go, let's go, let's go)