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letra de proof pt. ii - noir benny

[intro]

(hahahahahahahahaha)

yeah
unh
yeah
yeah
unh

kaz on the boards cause a natural disaster
yeah, yeah, yeah

shoutout alex vince

[verse 1]

i do ‘em proper
she with me only reason she popping
that means i’m a popper like i’m sandra lee, b.i.g, or i’m orville redenbacher
don’t come in my spot you and your n-ggas hot
they gon’ f-ck around pop a thermometer
and if any opp try dissolving my guap put that b-tch in a ditch in his p-ss where he rotting in
my gun got a d-ck and you’re f-cked
do the walk of shame back to your maker
clip after clip call my sh-t compilation
ima stay fixed on the vision like lasik
brainiac b-tch say my sh-t sound salacious
highs from the lows went from attics to bas-m-nts
don’t doubt my prowess my power’s amazing
got the block jumping like they calvin cambridge
f-ck on that hoe then my shoulder turn glacier
b-tch my sh-t colder than dang with the fangs in
i ridden a burden, i conquer and vanquish, abominate, bomb the place, and deface sh-t
that green on my mind b-tch i feel like i’m deku
scary n-ggas tryna hide, jekyll
she sleeping around like that girl narcoleptic, she slides with collectives, she’s acting eclectic
b-tch, i’m like elvis i die on my sh-t
ima giant i’m sick a t-tan with ick
how ironic it is ain’t no sinking my ship
pressure makes diamonds but anguish makes men
i got that water, drip, paddle
she hit my phone it keep ringing, saturn
don’t pout for no clout i’m not g-ssed off no status
i’m just the one seeking truth’s to unravel
propelling my digits
smoking a strain that be granting me wisdom
kaz on the boards turn that sh-t cataclysmic
i’m salt in the wound, i’m a seasoned incision
got n-ggas on stuck like they ross with the pivot cause they look at me see a beast in the frigid
so i “grr” my “burrs like i’m feeding an infant
i feel like i’m rodman when he on the pistons
i slip in the pink like i lost my position, jobless, and sobbing in fetal position
my jeans number (n)ine spent a fee on these britches
you pay to f-ck b-tches you feeding the pigeons
(sucka -ss n-gga)
sooner or later that won’t be a problem cause i send them robbers to empty them pockets
i got them n-ggas that walk in your home put them arms to your chest like ya name is t’challa b-tch
(wakanda forever b-tch)

[outro}

someone let benny talk his sh-t, he gon’ talk his sh-t, lemme talk my sh-t

- noir benny

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