The Hunter lyrics
by Benny the Butcher
[Verse 1: Skyzoo]
Okay, Nike Tech silks and Huaraches
Step through on the polly
George Jeffer' with ya bottom, better spoon (?) wasabi
Throwin' testers like berettas, let 'em shoot like a homi'
Build a cypher in the hall, bet I funeral lobbies
Let's get into it
Double RL's and double soles
How I made mine is to cut a rail and let it roll
I'm with the same guys that juggle shells and juggle stoves
Know I braid lines
I juggle sales and juggle thrones
I'm out the dirt
Swingin' at the Trumps if my Nia's in it
And still got the line on the pieces hittin
Live out the Stuy
Come outside and seem like what seen is different
Around the corner still got the nina hittin'
Say hi to the C-list celeb who pen for the A-pluses
And work a bedroom like I'm gettin' paid for f*ckin'
I'm here, change the discussion
Who want it?
f*ck, what the waitin' for?
Either say the verse or don't say no more
f*ck with us, ahh
[Interlude: Benny]
Ayo Zoo, good lookin'
Let's get these n*ggas
[Verse 2: Benny]
Yo, what's left to discuss, tell me, who really better than us?
My n*ggas killin' sh*t like, I ain't aggressive enough
Y'all sh*t weak, I kind of feel like they left it to us
Okay cool, I'll be glad to come and freshen it up
I'm Ol' Dirty in '94, bubble vest and some Chukks
You J.R. Smith in a slump, I'm Russell West' in the clutch
I just tell the fans the truth and y'all be dressin' it up
When they thought we was fallin' off, we was levelin' up, let's go
Sometimes I feel like the trap kind of cursed me
It's flooded in my raps when I look back in all my verses
The D's pass by double back round to search us
'Cause I get birds on the arm like a Matt Ryan jersey
Who ready to play? I'll slide broad day in the morning
Spittin' hot sh*t early like Sway In The Morning
At the West Inn, with best friends makin' a porno
Chill and watchin' the Knicks play while I'm waitin' to join 'em
You got a direct connect, that's major employment
Smokers steal from their children for a taste of this poison
And that's in every ghetto, ain't no way to ignore it
We gangstas, we get you clipped without raisin' our voices
Ride dirty, and break laws every day like it's normal
Strapped up, we wear guns on our waist like it's formal
And this verse right here, just a page in my journal
And you can't see the scars 'cause the pain was internal
Growin' up in the hood we seen the craziest things
Hustlas and ball players got the craziest game
Never our governments, we use the craziest names
And sons beefin' with they pops like Baby and Wayne
The hunter, uhh