May Store (Remix)

[Intro: BENNY THE BUTCHER]

Ah, let's go

[Verse 1: BENNY THE BUTCHER]

I don't feel no pressure, I feel like this my callin'

Bought the work, a hour later, I had to flush it down the toilet (Damn)

Every time they kicked the door down, I'm who took the charges (Me)

I came back and trapped harder, just in case they thought I lost it (What)

I was starin' them pots over with terrorist block soldiers

Yeah, I went from heroin to a Merrill Lynch stock broker (Ah)

She coulda got a pair of tits from the pair of kicks I'm quotin'

All my hoes crazy, I can't fuck unless she bipolar

Eastside legend like Sly and Rodney C

I really beat white, I'm Mr. T from Rocky III

You let these hoes sweet talk you, you niggas get rocked to sleep

You pay that bitch rent, I ask that ho what she got for me (What you got for me?)

They know I'm up now, but my only hustle was not the streets (Nah)

So when they touched down, I can still front you a block a piece

I know hoes that won't fuck you and jewelers that's out your reach (Uh-huh)

I don't hate niggas, I see 'em as students that I can teach (Butcher)

[Verse 2: Conway the Machine]

Ayo, I'm in these streets waist deep (Talk to 'em)

If I can't eat with you, you can't eat (Hah)

That's how we give it up on May Street (May Block, pussy)

May Street, pistol whip you, you get your face beat (Cap)

.40, no safety, tucked right where my waist be (What's poppin'?)

Yeah, race to the top, who wanna race me? (Uh-huh)

I don't chase money, money chase me (I'm gettin' bags, nigga)

Countin' these bands, it's been a great week (Cap)

'Member, I cooked my first deuce, that jar busted in Renee seat (I was fucked up)

I feel like Cam, painted the Wraith pink (Hah)

Bitches like, damn, they wanna taste me (Uh-huh), skeleton AP (You see me)

Give me a minute, bro, I can't think (Hold up)

I'm too busy countin' this money for the lawyer so my dog can get his case beat (We on the way, nigga)

Yeah, I been a G since I jumped off the porch (Hah)

Still ridin' with the pump in the Porsche (Cap)

Yeah, still G-ridin', leave you slumped on your porch (Boom, boom, boom)

I came up hustlin' the stuff that you snort

Them niggas sneak dissin' me, that's nothin', of course (That's light)

'Cause I can have them niggas clipped like it's nothin', of course (Hah)

Rock this designer shit, she wanna know what this shit cost

I told her all you need to know is you fuckin' a boss (Haha)

Yeah, chopper loaded, lock and loaded, snitchin', I do not condone it

Pop his dome in, I don't know shit, I keep goin'

Forty pointers, watch is frozen, I send ten

From Toronto to San Antonio but it's not DeRozan, box is loaded up

[Verse 3: Westside Gunn]

Ayo, we know it's fuckin' murder, shoot you, ain't gon' take it further (Brr)

Hit your son up, hit your daughter, shot your bitch, put on your coffin

Niggas starvin', my niggas in Ferrari with the top off (Skrrt)

And niggas bossin', need talk for stunner bricks, don't call Steve Austin (Ah)

Fear of God joggers, joggin', niggas think they fake important

To me, you just a fuck nigga, blow your head off soon as I walk in (Boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom)

I don't do no fuckin' talkin', ballin', Just Don sportin'

GT on Rodeo with my rich white bitch (Skrrt, rich white bitch)

Niggas talkin' culture, but not like this (But not like this)

[Outro: Keisha Plum]

I'm a killer and I'm gonna kill again

I wrote this with a devilish grin

I'm lookin' at his neck full of gold

I know what kind of car he drove

Holy Ghost, his soul that Calico

Any one of my niggas can snuff you

They solid and all official

What would ChineGun do?

Buffalo is ruthless, throw you off the roof shit

Kicked him in his face until he's fuckin' toothless

Murderous music, I'm from the fuckin' zoo

City full of villains and mobsters too

Burner to his dome, what would ChineGun do?

It's Griselda, nigga

The Butcher, Machine, Gunn, and Plum

Filthiness riddled all in your eardrum

When it's a price on your head, it's not up for discussion

Two slugs in your bitch face, those are the repercussions

This nigga wouldn't stop pleadin' for his life all of a sudden

We wipe away your whole bloodline

That's word to slime

So we waitin' until his seeds get off the bus

Guaranteed these lil' bastards gonna put up a fuss

And we slittin' their throats right in front of you

Thoughts of a criminal, what would ChineGun do?

Niggas will pistol whip your granny

Run a train on your mammy

I'm spiteful and death is delightful

Yeah