In "Channel Boots," Benny the Butcher traces how love stopped around seventeen, when class pictures gave way to mug shots and leaving home meant carrying guns. The memory of that first raid and flushing drugs shows how survival replaced innocence, while the repeated invitation to follow his lead frames a world where orders are followed or people die. Even a million dollars brings flash without class or happiness, and the image of snakes hissing and feds setting traps captures the paranoia that comes with no turning back.
Channel Boots Lyrics by Benny the Butcher
(Feat. Elcamino, Black Soprano Family, Fuego Base)
Mm, so just follow my lead
Just follow my lead
Just follow my lead
Just follow my lead
Just follow my lead
Just follow my lead, yeah
Just follow my lead
Baby, follow my lead
Baby, follow my lead
Follow my lead
The Butcher coming, nigga
Follow my lead
You can follow my lead
Uh, so when the love stop
When that happen?
‘Bout seventeen, when class pictures turned to mug shots
Left the crib ’bout when my nuts dropped
With guns cocked
So if you hear gunshots, then you know the fuck why
You know the fuck why
A couple dreadheads with sticks gon’ look like dust mops
What the bloodclaat?
That first raid, I had to flush rocks
Across town, a drug spot I had no business doing business in
Or whatnot
Or whatnot, I don’t know
I never laugh at them 8-ball hustlers ’cause I once copped
Remember?
Six-deuce, three niggas, hunched over one pop
Like, come watch
Look at this
We don’t punch clocks (Nah)
We not the working class
We not the working class
It ain’t no perfect baggies
No such thing
Millions probably turn you bad
No turning back when you start to hear whispers
Of what they heard you had
Snakes hissing when you turn your back
Haters wishing that you burn your stash
No turning back
When feds setting traps like I converted back
Two passports, so if they coming
They gotta search the map, ah
Followed y’all lead, a million dollars made me flashier
I don’t feel like I’m classier
I’m damn sure not happier
Follow my lead, nigga, it’s Butch
Mm, so just follow my lead
Just follow my lead
Just follow my lead
Just follow my lead
Just follow my lead
Just follow my lead, yeah
Just follow my lead
Baby, follow my lead
Baby, follow my lead
Follow my lead
Follow my lead
You can follow my lead
These are the real Sopranos
Just follow my lead
Just follow my lead
We follow orders or people die
It’s that simple
Are we clear?
