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letra de the warehouse - fuego base & black soprano family

[intro: benny the butcher]
uh-huh
black soprano’s
if it ain’t that, it ain’t nothin’
it’s only gon’ go one way, uh

[verse 1: benny the butcher]
off the corner, i made my great escape
that type of energy radiate, radio playin’ babyface
that little nine-piece, that ain’t no weight
i cross county lines when state to state, ot with that fuego base
are you a soldier or is you makin’ cake?
’cause breakin’ bread with crowded table sp-ce
gon ‘start to feel like anchor weights
i kinda feel like jim kelly did, one game away
i gave the game away, save that pie for a rainy day
countin’ up with jay rock, we goin’ dollar for dollar
knowledge is power, i’m a businessman, my product was powder
brick stacked, stashed in the oven, but that’s not a lasagna
india’ll drive them b-tches back herself, from guadalajara
i bet y’all thought i was finished when i got shot by that robber
’cause that’d probably take your stock to the bottom
havin’ dough, that’s not a new problem, the plug in malibu hidin’
he get the door of the mansion’, sayin’ “mi casa, su casa”
luxury sh-t, that’s what i got comfortable with
look who turned a couple of bricks into publishing splits
six years later, my n-gga, and i’m still punishin’ sh-t
haters mad at me still, must be somethin’ i spent, f-ck ’em
[verse 2: ot the real]
tryna make a million out the microwave
let a fiend slide once, turns into the ice capades
homie sells magnetic leaves, that covers license plates
them rico cases beatable, if they by the state
first week in philly, first seen a body
if you see me outside, i’m goin’ to meet somebody
what you know about beef and broccoli?
bro burned the line and got ghost, then made a post sayin’ “cheap biscotti”
headshot from the iron, that’s a hole-in-one
detectives at my mom’s again, somethin ‘ ’bout a stolen gun
home invasions on your folks, get the dope and run
bet you i got a way with the most, like the oldest son
just got trackin’ on the box, here i hope it comes
ironic how i came up off of coke and guns
i pressed together broken crumbs, ’til i broke my thumbs
we run sh-t over, ’til it’s over-run, let’s go

[verse 3: fuego base]
spent another day in the hole
my n-gga snake took five, shot a n-gga first day, on parole (facts)
if you’ve been waitin’ since free chain 1, thank you, the slum angel
watch same color as the ash, ’round the bum ankles, that’s light-grey
don’t say that he better, unless he ‘pac or died in march on the 9th day
they said i sound like ‘kiss, figure it’d slow me
till kobe used mike old sh-t, to win them trophies (okay, okay)
whole bunch of three-point-fives, enough to stop a hater
i put b-lls on your head, like a soccer player (facts)
makin’ a mule out my next shorty
if i was in jail in russia, britney griner wouldn’t check for me (no)
a criminal that made it in a gray fisker
before the money counter, bills gave splinters

- fuego base black soprano family

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