| And now we’ve come to that time |
| Where the legend of Griselda lives forever |
| The Butcher comin' nigga |
| Ayo, y’all niggas should know by now (The Butcher) |
| Y’all niggas should know by now that Griselda the flag |
| We the biggest (Biggest) |
| Yeah |
| I don’t know nobody this hungry, I don’t know nobody this humble |
| I don’t know nobody this fearless, with Tarzan, I can switch jungles |
| I don’t know nobody this gangster, I don’t know nobody this ready |
| Snatch your chain off a rapper bitch, I don’t know nobody this petty (Nah) |
| This where I take control of shit |
| This where I get to rap about sticks and how we ride bricks with petroleum |
| Clean strips, like custodian’s (Uh-huh) |
| My rap sheet got coke on it, my stash house got broken in |
| West signed me, I was woke again, I’ma tell that story all over again (Yeah) |
| Get rich first, then get your homies rich, it works |
| They said I’d never switch it up, but I’m like three flows in on this verse |
| So what to tell you? Now tell me that these niggas do a lot of cheerleadin' |
| (Lot of cheerleadin') |
| And these niggas gon' run in high when the scan season |
| And the Butcher comin', motherfucker |
| Never seen a pot (Pot), you never seen a blender (A blender) |
| I got this white bitch with me (This white bitch with me) |
| But we ain’t meet on Tinder (Uh-uh) |
| I put my feet on niggas (Uh-huh), when y’all speak to niggas (Those niggas?) |
| I think of my sons, I need a carseat for niggas (Those niggas?) |
| I play the game like Larry Bird, you know that street code, nigga |
| I can shoot for three or I might Vick or Olodipo niggas (Ah) |
| John’s Monday night football, I’m watchin' from the box (From the box) |
| Me and OG won and Lil Uzi takin' shots, I’m placin' bets and takin' pots |
| (Takin' pots) |
| You make a move, I make it hot (Uh-huh) |
| You makin' moves, nigga? You take ice cubes, then, man, fuck that |
| That’s pre-school, you run down on niggas and you make 'em cop (Yeah) |
| Then make sure you sleep with that machine gun, like Megan Fox |
| It’s the Butcher, nigga |
| When y’all tell the tale |
| Make sure you tell that nobody did it like Griselda did it |
| A team that was one of one |
| That shifted everything |
| The culture was the never the same after they got here |
| Stove God, Rome Streetz, my niggas 'bout it, 'bout it |
| We can break the whole shit down, go ounce for ounces |
| Ten course, three houses (Skrrt) |
| One house so fly, you can’t even sit on the couches |
| Peri fountains (Ah), I heard the feds watchin' |
| We had to re-route, took it through the Carolinas |
| Any doubt and we’ll be here 'til tomorrow, my nigga, you gotta recount it |
| Ayo, used to get vicious on the TV screen |
| Weed tems match the tans, the black match the greens |
| McLaren P1 (Skrrt), with the M16 |
| Oh, I (Oh, I), oh, I (Oh, I) |
| (Gangsta Grillz) |
| Uh, G-Wagon mornings and Porsche nights (Stove) |
| The cars that’ll cost your life (Haha), rain boots off-white (Hahaha) |
| It started dissolvin' in the water, I lost sight (I did) |
| Needles in the arm for the dog bite (Woo) |
| Sparkles on a brick, that’s what God like (That's what God like) |
| VVS’s dancin' in the ring, like Shawn Michaels, that’s a light show |
| I’ve seen the Eiffel, I’ve seen a pipe full (Woo) |
| The trap phone just kept ringin', like Mike with the bulls (Woo) |
| If you could, you would, nigga, but you can’t (You can’t) |
| Gina Jackson face on a brick stamp |
| Left the scale wet, the shit still was damp (It was) |
| I went Dam Marley out in Phoenix, had to lay up (Haha) |
| Get low for nine months, after they sprayed it up (Bah, bah, bah) |
| They askin' «Who the best?» I’m like «Yeah, maybe us» (Brr, bah) |
| Quarter-million layin' in the cut, rubber-band it up (Stove) |
| It ain’t shit to talk about, nigga, the damage is done (Hahaha) |
| All that Jeff and Gundy shit, get a gun to your shit |
| I rock it, stop it, Louis Vuitton mocks |
| Oh, oh, oh, oh |
| Oh, oh, oh |
| Oh, oh, oh |
| Oh, oh, oh (Ayo, check) |
| Skeet in a Benz now, before it was the mega bus with bundles |
| Or the droopy-eyed junkies, come through with they money crumbled |
| Make 'em get it straight, the fiend got more tracks than Hitler 8 |
| He tried to find a vein, he tied his bicep with the sneaker lace |
| And shot him in his foot like Harlem Nights, now he in outer space |
| Fast forward, now we in Paris, swingin' bottles of Ace |
| You know the case, all the bitches love me, like I’m '98 Ma$e |
| You dirty squared niggas won’t ever be in better shape |
| We so far ahead of these niggas, it’s no one in the race |
| Could leave and come back, they’d still be fucked up in the same place |
| Light you up, like Richard Pryor, with a pipe full of bass |
| Life dealt them bad cards, he got popped in his pokerface |
| Chop your head, stone cold was how I left a rattlesnake |
| Then I hit the rock with the raisons edge on a paper plate |
| Ghost guns, we keep hearin' weapons |
| He tried to run, we blew at the back of his head, like a Ram’s helmet (Boom) |
| All I needed was a skirt, I told her plug the mallet |
| On the dark web, I know the method, like residue |
| Residue on my digital, you niggas minuscule |
| (Y'all know who the motherfuck it is) |
| All of my shit is dope (Yeah), put it on a spoon |
| Oh, we fuckin' do it, oh, we fuckin- |
| Pop tags, get more and more rats, in stores, y’all trash |
| Piss poor, big bills, tall stacks, y’all cats, lil' boys |
| Y’all wanna come fuck with the queen? (Bitch) |
| Nah, I’ll pass, Chris poor, y’all know what West and 'Marni do (Yeah) |
| He hold the wheel, I’m shootin' off the room (Grrah) |
| Throwin' shots, I hope they ninety proof |
| 'Cause this shit’ll get real shiesty, pooh (Uh-huh) |
| Gave bitches room, gave bitches doom |
| Let me starve, so I made bitches food |
| Made a lane and I made bitches move |
| Killed niggas and I spray bitches too (Woo) |
| Flow hard, 'cause I go hard (Uh) |
| These hoes ain’t on they job, dope fiend with the J-nod |
| Like they just came from the graveyard (Ah) |
| Cop keys of that cake, Ma, stacks on deck, like it’s cake car (Like it’s cake |
| car) |
| Big moves when the bricks move |
| Touch down, hit the jeweler, need a bustdown |
| Young girl from the puff that did the impossible (Yup) |
| Everybody from the block was lookin' to pop it, I was the monster who |
| Took this shit to the top, boy, like I’m Shane or Sully, the game is funny |
| Woah, what’s happenin'? |
| Yeah, okay |
| I’m hoppin' out the fifty, it’s an eighty-eight |
| Got these, red paint, I ain’t got no place |
| Real P’s, no yees, we don’t know no base |
| All gas, no brakes, make your bitch cash dates |
| I’m from Bompton, Balifornia, where them soul P shakes |
| And when the barrel’s hit the corner, then we hop them gates |
| I bounce, I rock, I roll, I skate |
| Countin' hundred-dollar bills, cuttin' dope on the plate |
| Just a Westside nigga, in Harlem, I tuck my P high |
| Slidin' down two-fifth, nigga, I’m to the Eastside |
| They never heard me brazy, slappin' out of a G-ride |
| I show you how to do this, like the greatest of all time |
| Four bands, West in peace, had to do it for four lines |
| 2L, Roy 'nel a nigga, yeah, I’m from both sides |
| Bangin' all wax, we only heard of the B-side |
| In the bitty, where it’s brackin', blood, I live in a beehive |
| Oh, oh, oh, oh |
| Oh, oh, oh |
| Oh, oh, oh |
| Oh, oh, oh (Uh) |
| Mop was made in Bangladesh, spray the steps, oops, I made a mess (Brrt) |
| They upset, they down too, they concerned 'cause they regress |
| They depressed, they waivin' white flags, I’m still gon' wave this TEC (Hahaha) |
| We take no threats lightly, you likely gettin' a Halo next |
| We rivals, like when the Yankees go play the Mets, go play bets |
| I cook a half, my man cooked a half, but J gon' taste and test |
| I’m battlin' my chef to see who’s ship’s better, like Ray MF (Talk to 'em) |
| Niggas on that wrathful edge, SB’s, grateful, dead |
| My bitch is J. Lo bad, I give Felecia the grapefruit head (Ha) |
| I don’t beef with rappers, I fill this Wraith up with Draco' lead (Boom, boom, |
| boom, boom, boom, boom, boom) |
| Real pressure, think you a real stepper? I break your legs (Haha) |
| I’m way ahead, did it with no real effort, the way I sped |
| Past niggas, just ask niggas (Go ask them niggas, man) |
| Yeah, how you gon' fix your lips to talk to me crazy? |
| Like I won’t split your shit or put up a dub to get you fixed ('Kay) |
| Bottles meant with sticks and extendo clips (Uh-huh) |
| All the head hails, like Nintendo Switch (Boom, boom, boom) |
| I bend your bitch, then tell her «You can go, I’ll send your Lift» (Goodbye) |
| Then I sped off so past, I made the Benzo drift (Huh) |
| Think you puttin' work in, I’m comin' in your shift (Talk to 'em) |
| Hiders called me from the feds and said |
| «I'm glad you made it, my nigga, this been your gift» |
| Oh, oh, oh, oh (Machine, bitch, what’s happenin, bitch?) |
| Oh, oh, oh (Can't do shit, get in your bag, nigga) |
| Oh, oh, oh |
| Oh, oh, oh |
| (Gangsta Grillz) |
| When we talk finales, you can compare us to all of 'em |
| We done lived it all |
| We the Godfathers, we the Avengers in the Infinity War |
| We came back to the future to be the Terminators of the Matrix |
| We the Lord of the Rings that hold the Hunger Games |
| See, no mission is impossible when you this Fast and Furious |
| Niggas Die Hard when we show 'em the final destination |
| It’s been a pleasure |
| Hitler Wears Hermes 10 |
| DJ Drama |
| And like that, we gone |
| Gunn, holler at me |
| Legendary, timeless |
| Just make sure when the story’s told, it’s told correctly |
| (Gangsta Grillz) |