About This Track
"Sign Language" is a track by Benny the Butcher, from the album Excelsior, released 1st May 2025. The track is 2:51 long. It's filed under Hip-Hop. Full lyrics are available below.
About the Artist
Lyrics
Ah Excelsior I've been through too much, I just live in the moment (La música de Harry Fraud) Yo, only hustlers understand, so tell me, how can I explain? I made it out my hood, but still a target 'cause of fame I'm somewhere in my thoughts, could be good, could be bad Got everything I want, but I was good with what we had, right? Yeah (ah) Two types of nigga (two types of nigga) Some niggas see you getting money and salute (I'm that type of nigga) Other niggas see you getting money (that's me) And they'll hate you just for that reason (gettin' that shit off) Just from gettin' money Let's go I seen 'em blow it in the club like it was scammer money Then watched it all disappear like MC Hammer money 2018, and the game expanded for me (ah) 2010 vision, I saw the game different, nothing was handed to me Eighteen on cell blocks, that's how I played out But I ain't never count the days, I made the days count Niggas judging what I did with mines 'cause they ain't never get it I sold more dope than your boss, but I ain't have to in a minute I broke bread with a snake, had him sleeping on a sofa But you gotta keep 'em close, I fed pizzas to a vulture Niggas even lied to God, disobedient like Jonah I made every dollar count, I put my peoples on my shoulder Only hustlers understand, so tell me, how can I explain? I made it out my hood, but still a target 'cause of fame I'm somewhere in my thoughts, it could be good, could be bad Got everything I want, but still was good with what we had (ah) I watched them blow right through it like they ain't like the money Then make it right back like Mike Tyson money Y'all just a bunch of dickriders, I'm knowing your style (I know your style) Get on the net, say anything like Antonio Brown (dickrider) You too broke to go to war, I'll punish you (I'll punish you) Y'all got bitches with jobs and kids still in public school I moved my family out on purpose, I got comfortable (I got comfortable) I rode that drop through the city just to fuck with you I broke bread with a snake, had him sleeping on a sofa But you gotta keep 'em close, I fed pizzas to a vulture Niggas even lied to God, disobedient like Jonah I made every dollar count, I put my peoples on my shoulder Only hustlers understand, so tell me, how can I explain? I made it out my hood, but still a target 'cause of fame I'm somewhere in my thoughts, it could be good, could be bad I got everything I want, but I was good with what we had (Ah, The Butcher comin', nigga) Hey, Dad, this Jerm I'm just calling to tell you thank you And most importantly, everybody still can't go
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