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letra de the butcher - adam calhoun

[intro]
oh
oh

[verse 1]
i’m eatin’ at a hibachi place i can’t pr-nounce
this b-tch i brought with me
ass goofy like a basset hound
she don’t f-ck dudes unless the transactions cash them out
that’s about 100 grand a week, what she’s askin’ out
i don’t give a f-ck, it’s just paper, dawg
told her bring her friends with, all they drink is vegas bombs
spike it with cocaine and fall
to a bottle at the painted wall
i’m insane, i paint pictures you can buy at banquet halls
name a record i ain’t break, i broke bread, i should’ve saved it
when you make it to the top, your best friends your biggest hater
they’ll shoot you in the back of the head
toss you in the back of the trunk
show up at your coffin with some flowers actin’ like they loved you
[chorus]
f-ck ‘em, not me though, i’ve done too much for my people
and you get cut the f-ck up like the shuffle in casinos
keep the [?] on reload, no, a beamer with the cheat code
his nickname is chico, he takes life, reaper

[verse 2]
pull up playin’ woke black betty bamberland
he was talkin’ that sh-t, i hop out, now we ramblin’
hit him with the hand-to-hand, throw him in the ambulance
pistol whipped the man, man
pistol kick like ban, d-mn
yeah, why he talk so much sh-t but he the first one to run?
need to learn to hold your tongue
i know you ain’t no gangster, don’t hear no son of a gun
you get fap-fap, fapped down, now he gone
goons get to clappin’ like it’s a round of applause
now you layin’ in the lawn like, you know you f-cked up, right?
now, you can’t walk upright, might as well say f-ck life
midlife crisis, have and can’t afford a chrysler
always talkin’ rap beef, get tortured in a cypher
bunch of little rappin’ fans, on some fake ice
rent your cars from enterprise, try and pressure fake whites
can’t barely keep the lights on, smack you with my right palm
don’t mean to be nice

[verse 3]
oh, you can’t say my name, lame
you lose half your fanbase
beat you ‘till my hands break
d-mn, look at your man’s face
why you talk sh-t about
me, jelly, struggle, scat
every motherf-cker that
helped you get where you at?
jealous, catch you scared of dogs
belly fat with skinny arms
you don’t really want the smoke
you just wanna flap your gums
smack him, run him over, throw him in the acura
yeah, jaw wired shut, can’t eat
give his stupid ass a straw
yeah, listen, i gotta stop rappin’
i ain’t gonna go back to prison
you tryna make diss tracks
i’m tryna show up where you livin’
this is different, change your sh-t
you ain’t even scarin’ b-tches
don’t ever raise your fist
unless you tryna praise religion
this ain’t just rap sh-t, other people get involved
f-ck, show up, beat your ass, put that on one of my vlogs
f-ck you, with your g-y bars, sit down, take a day off
or you end up in a graveyard
get napalmed with ars
you a p-ssy

- adam calhoun

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