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Benny The Butcher - Pillow Talk & Slander Lyrics

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Benny The Butcher - Pillow Talk & Slander Lyrics
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[ Featuring Jadakiss, Babyface Ray ]

Man, we don't want much
We just want what belong to us
Man, we ain't greedy, we hustlers, nigga
Butch

If I could talk to the old me, I tell him watch these hoes
And them niggas gon' rat, delete them numbers out your phone
I left Ashland at FCI, met a plug and then got on
I could have made my brother rich, that nigga died 'fore I got home

I got the aura of a boss, ask niggas, they know my body
I'm on MSNBC talking politics with Ari
Ate sardines out the can, my birthdays ain't have a party (none)
So apologize for what? I'm too rich to say sorry
Wrote a letter to the streets, addressed it, whom it may concern
Everybody can't go and that's shit I had to learn (I had to learn)
I be back on my bullshit when the beef get confirmed
I lay on a nigga like Katt Williams perm
Walked the path of a king, first I saw it in my dreams
Now it's happening, ayo, Hit, we got these niggas
'Cause every time I drop
The hood telling me the streets is back again
One, two, three

If I could talk to the old me, I tell him watch these hoes
And them niggas gon' rat, delete them numbers out your phone
I left Ashland at FCI, met a plug and then got on
I could have made my brother rich, that nigga died 'fore I got home

Yeah, the streets dead, can't a soul save 'em (no)
Huh, you just a rapper, that's a bold statement (oh yeah)
I watched a kingpin lose and that shit f*cked with my mind
I was looking up to 'em before my faith was in God
Yeah, take you and ride to small towns, you get much more
First, you cut class, jump off the porch, now you cut dope (for real)
Identity sealed behind that mask 'cause he cutthroat
She put some in a baggy, some in her purse so I don't trust hoes
I usually judge these niggas by the taste of they watch
And then the pandemic hit, they started faking me out, yeah
I said f*ck college, went straight to the block, no witnesses
Better chances, guess it's safe at the top because it's lonely, nigga

If I could talk to the old me, I tell him watch these hoes (watch 'em)
And them niggas gon' rat, delete them numbers out your phone
I left Ashland at FCI, met a plug and then got on (uh)
I could have made my brother rich, that nigga died 'fore I got home

Niggas from the sandbox turn into your rival (damn)
'Cause they watch you put the work in, then they feel entitled (yup)
Pillow talk and slander, but they don't wanna try you (nah)
It's about what I can teach you, not what I can buy you (ooh)
What I'm capable of doing is the only thing that scares me (that's it)
I'd have told the old me, "Don't even let them near me" (uh-uh)
Somethin' 'bout the rush, you just can't get enough of it (woo)
Name on indictments with niggas you don't hustle with (uh)
They just love to tell it, I just love to sell it (yeah, uh)
Shit so strong, it's still wrapped and you could smell it (smell that)
Sittin' in the spot with the work and the gun out
At the end, true colors always gon' come out, real shit

If I could talk to the old me, I tell him watch these hoes
And them niggas gon' rat, delete them numbers out your phone
I left Ashland at FCI, met a plug and then got on
I could have made my brother rich, that nigga died 'fore I got home
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

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Man, we don't want much
We just want what belong to us
Man, we ain't greedy, we hustlers, nigga
Butch

If I could talk to the old me, I tell him watch these hoes
And them niggas gon' rat, delete them numbers out your phone
I left Ashland at FCI, met a plug and then got on
I could have made my brother rich, that nigga died 'fore I got home

I got the aura of a boss, ask niggas, they know my body
I'm on MSNBC talking politics with Ari
Ate sardines out the can, my birthdays ain't have a party (none)
So apologize for what? I'm too rich to say sorry
Wrote a letter to the streets, addressed it, whom it may concern
Everybody can't go and that's shit I had to learn (I had to learn)
I be back on my bullshit when the beef get confirmed
I lay on a nigga like Katt Williams perm
Walked the path of a king, first I saw it in my dreams
Now it's happening, ayo, Hit, we got these niggas
'Cause every time I drop
The hood telling me the streets is back again
One, two, three

If I could talk to the old me, I tell him watch these hoes
And them niggas gon' rat, delete them numbers out your phone
I left Ashland at FCI, met a plug and then got on
I could have made my brother rich, that nigga died 'fore I got home

Yeah, the streets dead, can't a soul save 'em (no)
Huh, you just a rapper, that's a bold statement (oh yeah)
I watched a kingpin lose and that shit f*cked with my mind
I was looking up to 'em before my faith was in God
Yeah, take you and ride to small towns, you get much more
First, you cut class, jump off the porch, now you cut dope (for real)
Identity sealed behind that mask 'cause he cutthroat
She put some in a baggy, some in her purse so I don't trust hoes
I usually judge these niggas by the taste of they watch
And then the pandemic hit, they started faking me out, yeah
I said f*ck college, went straight to the block, no witnesses
Better chances, guess it's safe at the top because it's lonely, nigga

If I could talk to the old me, I tell him watch these hoes (watch 'em)
And them niggas gon' rat, delete them numbers out your phone
I left Ashland at FCI, met a plug and then got on (uh)
I could have made my brother rich, that nigga died 'fore I got home

Niggas from the sandbox turn into your rival (damn)
'Cause they watch you put the work in, then they feel entitled (yup)
Pillow talk and slander, but they don't wanna try you (nah)
It's about what I can teach you, not what I can buy you (ooh)
What I'm capable of doing is the only thing that scares me (that's it)
I'd have told the old me, "Don't even let them near me" (uh-uh)
Somethin' 'bout the rush, you just can't get enough of it (woo)
Name on indictments with niggas you don't hustle with (uh)
They just love to tell it, I just love to sell it (yeah, uh)
Shit so strong, it's still wrapped and you could smell it (smell that)
Sittin' in the spot with the work and the gun out
At the end, true colors always gon' come out, real shit

If I could talk to the old me, I tell him watch these hoes
And them niggas gon' rat, delete them numbers out your phone
I left Ashland at FCI, met a plug and then got on
I could have made my brother rich, that nigga died 'fore I got home
[ Correct these Lyrics ]
Writer: Chauncey Hollis, Jason T. Phillips, Jeremie Pennick, Marcellus Rayvon Register
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
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