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letra de buffs vs. wires - westside gunn

[verse 1: westside gunn & benny the butcher]
ayo, [?] on the pen rug, twenty chains on, we on rodeo, blood
who touchin’ my stove? we had to spray him up (doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, ah)
visions yayo, sippin’ gator, he hit the stim hard (ah)
then he walked up the block with a refrigerator
i’m in the rolls (i’m in the rolls, skrrt)
knots on the martine rose when i pose (ah)
ready made caskets, this work so good, get the elastic
hid the ak behind the masjid
who made the sun shine? (who made the sun shine? you know what i’m sayin’)
next thing you know, we dip from one time (ah)

[interlude: benny the butcher]
real street n-gga sh-t
yo, uh

[verse 2: benny the butcher]
track and field, i’m runnin’ packs, i’m still subtractin’ up numbers
i took a loss and just had to build from it, y’all broke the code
threw dirt on gang when you spoke to hov, that was reckless
that’s expected, vs cuts on my wrist big enough to catch infections
this heckler on me protect the homies, boldy and west
i treated my .40 just like my only connect
who said it was simple? them prisons strengthened my mental
broke the lead on the paper from writin’ letters in pencil
this a process, i’m fresh, i just moved out the projects
million dollar deals and still feel like i ain’t hot yet
biggie smalls in a coogi, al green in a mock neck
russel simmons my mindset, i’m old hov with a pyrex
what’s the money worth when my mother hurt?
brother layin’ under dirt? we can forgive you, but you get punished first
dope on a paper plate, [?] on a paperweight
ran around the world for it just like the amazing race
the money counter singin’ to me, sound like amazing grace
cooked a brick of big at a time i was eight for eight
the butcher, n-gga
[verse 3: boldy james]
last three packs in the bundle, i had to swallow that (hold the tops)
b-lls of smack pumpin’ while i’m crumblin’ the loudest thrax (good kush)
cone racks, turned the plug around at the mountain jack’s (still more)
n-ggas who thought i was finished hate to see me bouncin’ back (it’s on)
touched a honeybun tryna trap me up a thousand stacks (a big, big dog)
shoutout to butch and gunn, my shooter don’t know how to rap (brr)
never filed a tax, i had to run with that part of pack (hyena)
thumb still numb from packin’ up, foldin’ lotto packs (up in plastic)
i grew up on a block with scurvy, n-ggas topsy-turvy (all hitters)
totin’ glocks with thirties in ’em, sellin’ rocks and thirties (screwboxes)
oxycontin, percocet, i was poppin’ yerkies (tens)
blowin’ on the way to see my po, i was droppin’ dirties (remix)
re-rockin’ birdies in the trap, half block of turkey (white meat)
the work come in a silver pack like a chocolate hersheys (what else?)
eat them pill ‘scripts and them bowls, in total [?] (moonrock)
real n-gga, still posted on the service drive with purses (four-one)
where we at?

- westside gunn

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