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letra de killa season - richer'den most, sauce walka & benny the butcher

[verse 1: richer’den most]
made a million dollars off the percocet
i was at the border tryna turn a bird to a jet (uh)
fish scale dreams, (yeah) i got it off the fiends
neighborhood dealer, got rich off that same pill that k!lled mac miller
i used to make that b-tter fly, as a caterpillar
i had to put my dawg out, they said he was a k!ller (d-mn)
i’m still fryin’ onions just to go and feed his litter (uh huh)
i whip that white girl but i swear i’ll never hit her
i’m hand-to-hand when the package land, i’m thumbin’ through the bands
i pledge allegiance to the kilogram (yep)
i ain’t never been a middle man (nah)
i’m gordo in real life that sold to k!lla cam
it’s a k!lla season (huh?) i’ll leave your people grievin’ (bye)
they say there’s money on my head, but i’m still breathin’ (whew)
no fiction, (nah) i really live it (yeah)
they ain’t never swallow drugs on a prison visit (yeah)
go to they cell and take it out when they sh-ttin’ (uh)
this a family business, (yeah) i had to k!ll the witness (baow)
my trap house hold more weight than planet fitness (d-mn)
these n—– sellin’ weed, think that we in competition (yo)

[verse 2: benny the butcher]
back to the bricks, back to them blocks
back to the trench (i’m back)
my back to the wall
i’m back usin’ tools, (haha) grab me a wrench (i’m back)
i’m back in the kitchen
back in that pot, came back with a stench (yeah)
i’m back in that mode
welcome me back, i’m back on that sh-t (i’m back!)
that corner store left a mark on me (n—-)
controlled substance, possession— that’s what the charges read
but that fork used to talk to me
i’m the n—- who brought that gold plaque back to the projects (that was me)
the flow crack, i’m actually rhymin’ and sold crack in the process (sold crack in the process)
rockin’ dark shades, i guess i can see through these carti’s better (can see)
these streets comin’ with all strings attached like a marni sweater (sh-t deeper than rap)
seven stacks in my piggy bank (my piggy bank)
and a big crib, but i ain’t into real estate (real estate)
it’s built from bricks that’s whiter than iggy face (woo)
ain’t seen a crib in months
yeah, i been booked that many dates (yeah, i been booked that many dates)
sn-tched me at the airport, but i shook that itty-bitty case (shook that itty-bitty-bitty case)
the valet gon’ park both benzi’s for a benji face (skrr)
i’m really straight, i bet my lawyer gon’ hit me if a penny waste (h-llo)
you better play to win, for those who never made it in (never made it in)
i’m still tattin’ these bible verses on my melanated skin
in a hundred thousand dollar benz, i’m poppin’ up
my jeweler be like “not again” (haha, no, not again)
we don’t f-ck more than once if she not a 10 (uh uh)
this for my n—– in them fed spots in pennsylvania (fed spots)
my dawg duffel in the hole right now in k!lla canaan (free the homies)
i tell him “load up” come and find you if i get impatient (ah)
he took a oath, we get his firstborn if he give a statement (shhh)
in black for the funerals of n—– that i left behind
before a deal i stacked a thousand a hundred and seventy times
suckas gon’ call me big-headed but discredit mines, n—-
you ain’t never introduce a brick to gregory hines (tap dancin’)
you never had a steady plug who gave a credit line
i made a baby with that crazy b-tch like kevin federline, n—-
this america, wake up and smell the pie (wake up)

it’s butch
[verse 3: sauce walka]
kickin’ rocks, nike, standin’ in a puddle
gun slangin’, gang bangin’
never played sports in huddle
summer days, gotta keep your super soaker in the gutter
n—- get set up and k!lled by a b-tch that say she love ya
put that fire underneath the hot pot— watch it bubble
all this pimpin’ instead of sellin’ drugs kept me out of trouble
funny part is i still made d-boy money
‘cause all the trappers paid my hoes when their re-up comin’

grammy hand washin’ clothes, let ‘em dry on the wire
remember ten thousand dollars was my only desire
five days on the blade pressin’ hoes ‘til i’m tired
police sirens singin’ in my head— sound like a choir
parking lot pimp their clubs ‘til i flatten my tires
white b-tch in my whip named lizzie mcguire
got a megan sellin’ fox
remy martin on the rocks
pimped harder now i’m louis vuitton down to the socks
never thought i’d see cold gangsters turn and be cops
more disappointin’ than a switch jammin’ when you squeeze the glock
robbers get dehydrated, they thirsty, he need a drop
ap’s and rolex’s be the reason the thieves is watchin’
twenty years sellin’ hard, unc nervous to leave the pot
tried to bless him with a bunny— he f-cked her and kicked her out
four women in my phone— eighty thousand by six o’clock
he could really give a d-mn ‘bout none of them bricks you got
or none of them l!cks you got
she just hit the business ‘count for a million, she playin’ stocks
at the greyhound race with a trick he baggin’ guap

- richerden most sauce walka benny the butcher

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