Back to Top

Brick Specials Video (MV)




Performed By: Benny The Butcher
Featuring: 38 Spesh
Language: English
Length: 2:30
Written by: Anthony Shepherd, Jeremie Pennick, Justin Harrell




Benny The Butcher - Brick Specials Lyrics
Official




[ Featuring 38 Spesh ]

Huh
Ayo, Butch
These niggas in trouble, man
We back at it
Upstate N.Y. shit, know what I'm sayin'?
Ayo, huh

They wonder why I'm successful
'Cause my wrist wrestle, one into three then give a brick special
Red dots look like big freckles
It's six levels to hell and I already got your trip scheduled
We turned slums into rich ghettos
From these walls, deserved to get medals, hope the shit settles
Don't quit, we legit rebels
I'm the rose from the concrete that grew to have six petals
Hustle and scams, I flipped several
We had so much dirt on our hands, we traveled with shovels
Learned these hoes is sick devils
I'm quick to kick a bitch out of the whip, and tell her, "Kick pebbles"
What I spit is intellectual
If a bitch ain't got her shit together, we don't get sexual
Huh, my life like a lit festival
Used to stash dope inside rice like mixed vegetables
Trust

Ah, four or three plus a driver
You walk in, you knock 'em over, you walk out
And you want a hundred thousand in advance
Against a ten-percent cut for that?
Uh-huh
It sounds like an address to a cowboy score
They hit the hold-up alarms, I've got to- (uh)

This for people who still mad I'm great
And for street runners, one bag of H and now they back in shape
Half a plate of raw and masking tape
They smoke through a screen, that'll slim down the beauty queen to pageant weight
My girl was mad at dates, I had to break
Nine years later, she rich with me, her magic trait was havin' faith
But my magic trait was baggin' weight
I made a few stacks a day before sundown like a matinee
The cash just made me a castaway
I'm catchin' flights, goin' through Claire, without ID or a bag to take
Give me your 14 Pro Max, I'm straight
In case my family need to hit me, plus the half a M on Apple Pay
The game crowded, it don't have no space
'Cause half the states wished they hustle as soon as they seen us rap on Sway
I advocate for all the trappers' sake
'Cause a hustler without nothin' to sell just a talent waste
Butch, ah
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

[ Correct these Lyrics ]

We currently do not have these lyrics. If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.


We currently do not have these lyrics. If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.




Huh
Ayo, Butch
These niggas in trouble, man
We back at it
Upstate N.Y. shit, know what I'm sayin'?
Ayo, huh

They wonder why I'm successful
'Cause my wrist wrestle, one into three then give a brick special
Red dots look like big freckles
It's six levels to hell and I already got your trip scheduled
We turned slums into rich ghettos
From these walls, deserved to get medals, hope the shit settles
Don't quit, we legit rebels
I'm the rose from the concrete that grew to have six petals
Hustle and scams, I flipped several
We had so much dirt on our hands, we traveled with shovels
Learned these hoes is sick devils
I'm quick to kick a bitch out of the whip, and tell her, "Kick pebbles"
What I spit is intellectual
If a bitch ain't got her shit together, we don't get sexual
Huh, my life like a lit festival
Used to stash dope inside rice like mixed vegetables
Trust

Ah, four or three plus a driver
You walk in, you knock 'em over, you walk out
And you want a hundred thousand in advance
Against a ten-percent cut for that?
Uh-huh
It sounds like an address to a cowboy score
They hit the hold-up alarms, I've got to- (uh)

This for people who still mad I'm great
And for street runners, one bag of H and now they back in shape
Half a plate of raw and masking tape
They smoke through a screen, that'll slim down the beauty queen to pageant weight
My girl was mad at dates, I had to break
Nine years later, she rich with me, her magic trait was havin' faith
But my magic trait was baggin' weight
I made a few stacks a day before sundown like a matinee
The cash just made me a castaway
I'm catchin' flights, goin' through Claire, without ID or a bag to take
Give me your 14 Pro Max, I'm straight
In case my family need to hit me, plus the half a M on Apple Pay
The game crowded, it don't have no space
'Cause half the states wished they hustle as soon as they seen us rap on Sway
I advocate for all the trappers' sake
'Cause a hustler without nothin' to sell just a talent waste
Butch, ah
[ Correct these Lyrics ]
Writer: Anthony Shepherd, Jeremie Pennick, Justin Harrell
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC


Tags:
No tags yet