Shower Shoe Lords - Westside Gunn, Benny the Butcher

His spirit moving

His prays are ever near

That’s how I know he’s real

In my heart I feel

That’s how I know that God is real yeah what’s more

«I hear it in my sleep sometimes…»

«See I can see the sound of my glow…»

«Rhyme nice…»

Ayo, I never gave a fuck, never will

Hit him 18 times, he did the windmill

My nigga wrote me, said he heard I’m out here killin' shit

I put a grand on his books

Ayo, Madonna sucking Basquiat dick up in the spot

Hundred round drums, fuck around and get chopped

Starin' at the turquoise Marilyn

Told my little nigga to bag 20's, it’s imperative

40 in the jawn undercovers, the 'caine doin' numbers

Lose my work whippin', I’ll leave your brains in the oven

Splash paint on my Christopher Kane jumper

Crash the Mulsanne, I copped the plane last summer

The watch plain Jane, but it still cost 60

Ran up in the spot, stole base, Ken Griffey

Blood-stained Persians, wide body’s got curtains

TEC just jammed, I just left it, shit worthless

In the law library, tryin' to get time off

Prayin' five times a day, tryin' to get five off

Crush Doritos on this wheat rice and turkey, lord

I wore my blues to the shower, razor tucked in my jaw

Ayo, I never gave a fuck, never will

Hit him 18 times, he did the windmill

My nigga wrote me, said he heard I’m out here killin' shit

I put a grand on his books, look

Uh, could’ve told my story on Oprah, 60 Minutes

How I earned plenty digits from risky business

What you know about a stint?

Gotta sit for Christmas

Wifey on shit, that bitch missing visits

'Cause we was stretching white like Richard Simmons

Caught a case and the nigga pled the 5th amendment

Yeah, you know the whip be rented and bricks be in it, uh

And I’ma get this chicken 'til my clique get sentenced

I need a stash in the wall that whole 90 pies

Word to me, I’ve been live since '95

Took a trip to get the bag like 90 times

Yeah, you got it from your plug, but it’s probably mines

All I needed was a trap spot, scale and a plate

I ended up on a flat cot, cell upstate

Now I really need a black Glock, shells and a tank

Yeah, the shit’ll get uglier than Welven Da Great

D’s kicked in the door and snatched the four pound

My man paid ten stacks just to blow trial

Now he callin' home, tellin' the crew to slow down

I’d be rich if I knew then what I know now, uh

Livin with regrets and I’m still willing to bear it

Plus the shoe fits and I’m still willing to wear it

It’s hard being a family man with interference

All the women and them trips to prison ended my marriage

I grew up with the few damn crooks that baked work up

Who used to have food stamp books and case workers

Me?

I’m way further from a place you ain’t heard of

Where you get rich, die trying and face murder

Where your best friends start to switch when the case surface

Where it’s hard to trust a man who ain’t nervous

I fell asleep with a 50 grand in a locked apartment

That night, I had a dream like Dr. Martin, woo, yeah

«I hear it in my sleep sometimes…»

«See I can see the sound of my glow…»

«Make them say that I’m God…»

«Rhyme nice…»

Big money, big money

Big money, big money

Hey, hey, hey, hey

You got big money, you got fancy cars

Everybody knows you, it’s like you’re a trap star

You’re breakin' down bricks, choppin' up O’s

Breakin' down bricks, choppin' up O’s