Butter Knives

(They say he's a swordsman) Back to that fly shit (They say he's a swordsman) Silicone Valley good shit, right here, boy More money on this rhyme right here, boy Take ya'll back to the front of the muthafucking 1-6-O, oh shit Yo, lord, that first Wu shit You know what it is, it's that muthafucking Special made, high powered, special made forces What up, what up, what up? Aiyo, aiyo chef that fly with a meat cleaver Swing on a young nigga, smack flames at him, no gun neither Leave him with a buck, what the fuck (They say he's a swordsman) Get that little, nigga Who give a fuck if he's a swordsman, I'm a gunman, I run from nothing Chain came from rent days and pumping Wire cell with valor's on, drawers is colorful I do this, forever nigga, raw style Lighting Phillies, fly by willies, can't come through Unless your vehicle, three hundred chain, silly Laying in the park with the killas, the Coupes and villains No rims, we just ball for the millions The emperor of slang lords, kings get clapped in they dome Get your throne rushed and I ain't got a gun on High power ninjas who touch you, lay a gun on Drinking with the best of the hustling I got butter knives like you got butter knives Come through huddling, run through the spot thirty times All my niggas old school robbers, do what it do I got a sixty-two, a black pair of goggles FILA approachers, the Bee Hives, the vultures and the roasters Can't come through with cedar toasters It's going down, only in the town Your heart get tested and gun play is only an investment Flying shooters, eye-wear Rugers Stars and swords in front of the building, five thousand students Cocaine cops they know him (They say he's a swordsman) You already know that, man Diamond up, double O sevens, come through, 1-8-7 Back to the Hill in a second, yeah Sons jump in front of them bullets, push me up in the bullet Stay cool, I got shit, where ya weapon? Hurricane slammers, earthquake clips and cannons Back of the building with the jammers Live well, eat well, welcome to the Terrordome, sleep well Who don't like beefing? Keep shells I flow with the souls of sharks and criminals in they heart Play parts of this in detail Well carried mannered, blampers, ninjas black down Pop up on spots and vanished (They say he's a swordsman) I got butter knives like you got butter knives Come through huddling, run through the spot thirty times All my niggas old school robbers, do what it do I got a sixty-two, a black pair of goggles FILA approachers, the Bee Hives, the vultures and the roasters Can't come through with cedar toasters It's going down, only in the town Your heart get tested and gun play is only an investment Get down, Lord (They say he's a swordsman)