Hood On Fire Lyrics by Benny The Butcher & Daringer (feat. Bruiser Wolf)
Summertime Butch
It’s hot and it’s humid, business booming
RICO loomin’, they know he do it
But the question is, can they prove it?
I know the district attorney tired of lookin’ stupid
The streets is hot, we better cool it
It’s hot and humid, business booming
RICO loomin’, they know he do it
But the question is, can they prove it?
I know the district attorney tired of lookin’ stupid
Yo, these rappers let they fans gas them, but that ain’t validation
They either got snitch rumors or a *** allegation
This Maybach I’m racin’, speedin’ the cake that I’m chasin’
Hate from snakes that I ate would come from fake admiration
Last eight years I been top five, look at the case that I’m makin’
Knew with the Lord’s grace and Jeff Gordon’s pace I could take it
But I don’t wanna hear no thank yous, that ain’t compensation
I could blend it in a suit, but y’all can’t trade spots with gangsters
Y’all niggas ain’t got the basics, this not a safe occupation
I buy droughts eight summer so I can make observations
Of my surroundings, I ride through *** hoods, no brakes, I’m just racin’
But I don’t park this pretty *** while I base operations
I’m gettin’ hate connotations, feelin’ zen folk
My pen stroke, it change populations, I can paint conversations
In America, where I seen greed and race divide a nation
From the hood, where if your dog turn to a snake, it’s violation
I hit the teller to make a withdrawal from the bank, now I’m waitin’
They say they need a couple minutes
I’m chillin’ cause I’m patient
Rome wasn’t built in a day
Uh-uh, neither was the spaceships
Black Soprano, live familiar, keep a secret like a Mason
It’s hot and it’s humid, business booming
RICO loomin’, they know he do it
But the question is, can they prove it?
I know the district attorney tired of lookin’ stupid
The streets is hot, we better cool it
It’s hot and humid, business booming
RICO loomin’, they know he do it
But the question is, can they prove it?
I know the district attorney tired of lookin’ stupid
The streets is hot, we better cool it
Bread, winter, mind-stain, accruin’ carbohydrates
Walk with a stick, I operate in blind faith
Meet face to face, on phones don’t say much
Y’all text thread the ***, then stitch y’all case up
We got a bad week, y’all can’t play us
Fillet the fish scale and sell it in K-Cups
Widows wanna lay up, just a Spider-Man, Zendaya
We slash prices and rivals take pay cuts
That’s business
Egg shell whip, yellow chick in it
Savvy, a whole baddie, not a half one
You heartless
She got ten men she get cash from
Pack on her
She got her abs done
No tattoo
Hat dust in bags, I sew vacuums
Point and leave your mind baffled
Chain swing like upside-down pineapples
I need a statue with my shoes
She ain’t say I put my foot in that food
It’s hot at the crib
Niggas snatching Cartiers like Stefon Diggs
We buy it pure, then infuse it
Bass, scales, and bells, we make music
And then we loop it
Bruiser, listen
It’s hot and it’s humid, business booming
RICO loomin’, they know he do it
But the question is, can they prove it?
I know the district attorney tired of lookin’ stupid
The streets is hot, we better cool it
It’s hot and humid, business booming
RICO loomin’, they know he do it
But the question is, can they prove it?
I know the district attorney tired of lookin’ stupid
The streets is hot, we better cool it
They can see us
They can see us
I think they see us
They see us