Massacre - The Alchemist, Styles P, Benny the Butcher

The polo and diamond

The cause of the cloud lining

A life full of crime is the cause of foul rhyming

Scale talk, jail talk

Smoking what the bail costs

Overnight hustler package in the mail, dawg

Cigar rooms, hand shakes

Whispers and your man wake

Connect on the internet re-up on the fan page

Block party, yacht party

Wonder if your mans safe

Talks to the feds so you wonder if the plan’s straight

Lunch with the lawyer

Dealing with the under boss

None of y’all are speaking on the money that you come across

Wifey wants you to quit

Team wants you to go hard

Looking at the beam and the block you can bogard

You looking at the sky like oh god

Mad high, hit your man like «Yo god»

But he ain’t give you no nod

And you wonder why the fast life’s so hard

It ain’t a war till you wear a vest

Masked up, airing techs

That barrel whistle like a clarinet

They say «Griselda» and they hear respect

I worked my kitchen in my spot

And up top I had to wear a net

To get here took blood, tears, and sweat

Stressed on that prison tear I set

Can’t walk a mile in this pair of 'seppes

Fendi belt with the red F’s

Bulldog tucked down in it and it’s barking like DMX

Rappers wanna make friends with us

I’m only close to this plate

And this blender and I shake grams in it

It only take ten minutes

And I come back with a bag

Full of Fetti, so heavy

You think there’s paint cans in it

These rappers never had a half-ounce

So why they rap about racks?

And act out these war stories on Vlad’s couch

Stove and the cooker

The dope for the pushers

It feels like Halloween

It’s the Ghost and The Butcher