SUPERNATURAL

[Intro]

These are the real Sopranos

Griselda

[Chorus: Estee Nack]

Touchdown (Hail Mary), Rollie face bust down

They want us to fail, but we up now (We're doing great)

Bucks piling up, goin' through the roof (Going ching)

Countin' dollars, son, you know that we in loot, uh (Money)

Street scholars with gold up in the tooth (Bling, bling, bling)

Five percent niggas showin' you the truth

The .45 will lift the soul out of his boots, son

Ghost Rider doin' donuts in the Coupe (Skrt)

[Verse 1: Benny the Butcher]

I'm just sitting smoking on this haze chilling, scrolling up my page

Thinking how the OG's is rolling in they graves

How many more gon" get exposed? (How many?)

How many souls are they gon' trade? (How many?)

When no loyalties exchange, that's how soloists gеt made

I'm a hands-on kind of boss, so it totally explains

How I put coco over flamеs before a logo on a chain

Still standing, only Lord knows what overcame

Feds still circle my face when they take Polaroids again

Fifteen-thousand dollar fit thuggin', hoppin' out of shit frontin'

I pull up to the barbecue like, ”Holla at your big bousin"

Double cross always from a friend, saw that shit comin'

Ten million shoot you out the gym, we call that Chris Mullin

Better use them two ears God gave for listening

Hope you guys paid attention, get your top scraped and blistered

The big league just like Jackie, 'cause I do not play with niggas

And it do not make a difference, not even rock, paper, scissors

Butch

[Chorus: Estee Nack]

Touchdown (Hail Mary), Rollie face bust down

They want us to fail, but we up now (We're doing great)

Bucks piling up, goin' through the roof (Going ching)

Countin' dollars, son, you know that we in loot, uh (Money)

Street scholars with gold up in the tooth (Bling, bling, bling)

Five percent niggas showin' you the truth

The .45 will lift the soul out of his boots, son

Ghost Rider doin' donuts in the Coupe (Skrt)

[Verse 2: Benny the Butcher]

Stuffin' dough in the full safe, sip bottles that's half empty

Pullin' work out the pot, had to tap on the glass gently

Sometimes I miss it

Hear me out, this rap shit get mad mixing (How though?)

It's some way attached to cash if they act friendly

Uh, I really done grown man business by age twenty-one

Reasons I should paint the city? I had too many ones

Flow been silly since Biggie was crackin' Philly blunts (You feel me?)

Money talks and y'all niggas won't give a penny up (Who?)

The boss man, who win a million up off a signature

And I been feelin' much like a villain since I been killin' your

Favorite rappers, your fibula crackin' if it don't been enough

When I hit that scorpion leg lock, the Kevorkian death shot (Hahaha)

I'm gettin' bored while the Feds watch

I brought a lord to a dead block, then on to the next spot (Hahaha)

Niggas can't fuck with me, nigga, it's Butch (The Butcher comin, nigga)

The biggest, the villain tape, let's go, ahh (Black Soprano Family, big Griselda)

[Chorus: Estee Nack]

Touchdown (Hail Mary), Rollie face bust down

They want us to fail, but we up now (We're doing great)

Bucks piling up, goin' through the roof (Going ching)

Countin' dollars, son, you know that we in loot, uh (Money)

Street scholars with gold up in the tooth (Bling, bling, bling)

Five percent niggas showin' you the truth

The .45 will lift the soul out of his boots, son

Ghost Rider doin' donuts in the Coupe (Skrt)