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BENNY THE BUTCHER – Thank God I Made It Lyrics

Thank God I Made It Lyrics – BENNY THE BUTCHER

Yeah
Mic check, one-two
Uh-huh
(Hit-Boy)
Only can talk about this real shit, ’cause that’s what I been through
Yeah
Yo

I was raised by a woman, so shout out to single mothers
Who had to teach their teenage boys to use rubbers
Gettin’ calls home from school, then wonderin’, why she buggin’
‘Cause that’s just more stress to add on top of strugglin’
Few things I wanna show you, ’cause I feel like owe you
You made me the man I am today, I never told you
Dressed me in hand me down ’cause you couldn’t afford Polo
How it feel to see your two oldest boys’ names on logos?
Had to protect my family, so we played with guns
I can’t respect the man who don’t raise his son
Then you blame the white man on what they become
A gangster, but reality of it is, you made him one
Real niggas look in the mirror and see each other
I look in my nephew eyes and I see my brother
Sometimes I gotta look away ’cause it hurt so much
How that nigga died so young and he was worth so much? (Damn)

Put your hands together for the work of the Most High (Ah-ha, ah-ha)
I put my hands together and I pray, all night (Ah-ha, ah-ha)
‘Cause the struggle is real but the hustle is real too (Ah-ha, ah-ha)
I’m flippin’ my dreams ’til they all come true (Ah-ha, ah-ha)
I thank God I made it, thank God I made it
And you gon’ make it too (Ah-ha)

This what happens when you take a path they force you to take
Like of course you gon’ break and leave no remorse on your face
‘Cause somebody just got life in the courtroom today
When I walk, my chains make the sound my fork used to make
It remind me daily, all that’s sayin’ is you gotta pay me
That kinda crazy, find a new hustle, this not the ’80s
That ain’t gangster, how y’all rockin’, y’all droppin’ babies
And that ain’t fly shit y’all be rockin’, y’all mockin’ ladies
With no diplomas, we was soldiers, we got 380s
Put a hundred mil’ in my pocket, it’s not gon’ change me
I just signed a deal with the Roc and I got more wavy
Need a spot to hide the paper, the profit done got so crazy
Hol’ up, just today I swear I felt my brother’s spirit
Writin’ all this shit and, damn, I hope my brother hear it
Niggas scared of the Butcher, I know suckas fear it
‘Cause niggas like me only come around every other era (Ah)

Put your hands together for the work of the Most High (Ah-ha, ah-ha)
I put my hands together and I pray, all night (Ah-ha, ah-ha)
‘Cause the struggle is real but the hustle is real too (Ah-ha, ah-ha)
I’m flippin’ my dreams ’til they all come true (Ah-ha, ah-ha)
I thank God I made it, thank God I made it
And you gon’ make it too (Ah-ha)