Jasmine's (feat. Westside Gunn)

Summertime Butch

Ayo, power drove a fiend up the stove in Garçon (Ah)
If you need me, I'll be in my cell on the phone (Brr)
George Capitals, you see the bones, I'm in the Rolls (Skrrt)
Might be the first drug dealer on the Vogue (Brr)
Mule panickin' 'cause she late, I told her, "Ándale" (Ándale)
Maison Maras with the scuffs all through Lammeret (Ah)
My Benz steering wheel on the right, shooter on the left (Grr)
The first to make him overdose, dope, be the best
Goyard satchels with the blick, leavin' out the Ritz
Champs-Élysées on a shoppin' spree, just
Me and your bitch (Woo, woo, woo, woo)
I bought me everything, I ain't buy her shit (Uh-uh)
Hermès crocodile sandals, steppin'
On a brick (Steppin' on a brick, ah)
Thirty-six, the forty-four shit, MOSSWILL
My man mom died, he in the cell with the razor pulls (Ah)

Rockafeller
Somebody's pickin' on this pussy nigga
Ha, the gods, business
Ha, ha
Ah, yeah, yeah
Yo, uh

Fuck is the state of rap? Same shit they been tryna act since Pac died
And B.I.G. left and the game went a little lopside on the pop side
And I cried, it's elementary that you
Add some interest to your top five
'Cause evidently, I'm in my prime
Doin' better than them who done got signed
But it cost me, how else can I put it? They forced me
Bullets and coffee (Good morning, America)
I cheated the game, it felt good as adultery (Good as adultery)
Ask the last label, I'm a rap savior
I'm a cash major, I'm a mass strangler
I'm a cash cow and a stack saver
We can chat now or we can chat later (Uh)
I made my wrist lock, then made a movie 'bout it
Like the Black Elf of Hitchcock, interrogation room
I be so quiet in it that you might hear a pin drop
What's the state of rap? Same shit they been
Tryna act since Will Smith (Same old shit)
And Jazzy Jeff, I sold real bricks, I still don't got no real hits
But cocaine still give thrills, white girl, real Kill Bill shit
I get chills when I close deals
Made a quarter mil' on some chill shit
I get the pill, I'm tryna bang like
I'm O'Neal, you just Josh Childress
I show you gents 'round the money, I'll take
You lil' niggas on a field trip (Bitch)
Got a Yacht Master on a yacht, nigga, we are not rappers
Saw the cops pass them and the drop faster than a time traveler
And my watch flashin' like I'm Arm Wrestling
But you like the senior with bad grades and I'm the dean
I'm thinkin' why cap ya? Couch potato with a iPad
And a mic, so now you a podcaster
They hit they ceilings, I'm booked in Paris
Let's get to business (Let's get to business)
Two hundred fifty in hundreds, to count it
It take her ten minutes (Maybe eight)
Fuck is the state of rap? Same shit they been tryna act since Eazy-E
Only street niggas gon' agree with me
I'm just a rich nigga with a G.E.D., Big Butch, ah