B.B. Butcher Song Lyrics

Description:- ​​​​​B B Butcher Lyrics Boldy James & Sterling Toles are Provided in this article. This is a new song which is sang by famous singer ​Boldy James & Sterling Toles. This song is form Manger On McNichols album. This Song will release on 24 July 2020.

If you are searching ​B.B. Butcher Lyrics then you are on the right post. So without wasting time lets jump on to B.B. Butcher Song lyrics.

Song:– B.B. Butcher

Singer:– Boldy James & Sterling Toles

Album:– Manger On McNichols

Producer:– Sterling Toles

Written:– Boldy James & Sterling Toles

B B Butcher Lyrics Boldy James & Sterling Toles

[Intro: Boldy James & Martha Jean “The Queen” Steinberg]
These niggas ain’t built to last (nah)
You gotta be built for this
Born alone, die alone, you can’t call on nobody but yourself
You’re all you got out here, man
What proffered a man to gain the whole world?
It don’t have control on his soul! Oh, God
You want to change from the way you’ve been livin’
It hasn’t been easy for you
Prepare us, prepare us to walk the streets of Detroit
We don’t need to go no place else
Oh, we can see you with the pots that ain’t never seen the stove

[Chorus]
If I don’t scale this boat? If I sit on my bag
Then I’ma be flat broke
So I sit on my ass if I can get cashflow
So I be ’bout my bread, watchin’ for task force
And SWAT on my Launchpad

[Verse 1]
And I’m back for more, Detroit’s ambassador
Chancellor of the Ambassador Bridge
To Canada, in the back of that rig
Was some dust, cancerous enough to get us maximum biz
Lookin’ at addin’ a brig
I’m never satisfied, like my mammy, she said
“Jay, [?], just like your father, bold and cold”
It’s Detroit, Michigan in December, sold my soul to the concrete
Devil in the blue dress got me doin’ life in the ghetto so the music
That I write is for the ghetto-ous hoodlums
Tryna make a way out of no way
Down with heavyweight, tre four-way, John C. James’ cousin
I pack pistols on that block boy tip
Boldy McNichols on some lodge boy shit
Six Mile, Brick Mile, Southfield Freeway
I’m in that brick house on Archdale and PA
Across the street from that church
Across the street from where my work is
What do this cross mean on my Turkish?
Why do I talk street with a slur?
Is it ’cause I’m from Detroit? Where you don’t eat, you don’t work
Got the fiends’ mouths watering for a piece of dessert
Beggin’, “let me get a taste”, you don’t eat ‘fore my thirst
Get quenched, ’til I clench tender, legal reserve
Federal commissary notes
Man, I’m tellin’ you, I’m tired of sellin’ dope
‘Cause ain’t shit worse than when you gotta sell this dope
Gotta tote this mag

[Chorus]
If I don’t scale this boat?
If I sit on my bag
Then I’ma be flat broke
So I sit on my ass
If I can get cashflow
So I be ’bout my bread
Watchin’ for task force and SWAT on my Launchpad

[Verse 2]
‘Cause I done got cash on all the blocks on the west side
Stood on every slab, caught a hot one and didn’t die
Witnessed my mans get shot dead, and didn’t cry
Seen my folk get murdered, I was just eleven
They say it only get worse ‘fore it get better
I pray it don’t get worser than it been lately
If it get any worse, dude, what’s worse than crazy?
Besides pistols when they shootin’
My street shit’ll clink me in a mental institution
Been thinkin’ how I think, man, I think I’m finna to lose it
Reachin’ for my piece when I feel the slightest movements
Or hear the slightest noise
I’m off a Skittle and I’m ‘noided
They got me ‘noid but I ain’t paranoid
Always feelin’ like I’m bein’ watched, paranoid
I can’t sleep, I’m in the dope game, Nina Ross
Me and my girlfriend
I think these niggas and these bitches out to get me
Rise and fly, wanna leave me hangin’ out to dry
Set me up for failure, just to let me down and die
When they need to dig deep down inside themselves, and find themselves
Instead of always tryna lose their lives, I read y’all
Negativity is what I feed off
And relatively speaking, I think y’all niggas is a bunch of egotistical fake thugs with foolish pride
On McNichols, we crave blood
Can you rely on them goons that’s with you?
‘Cause you and I, we can use them pistols
Will you survive? ‘Cause I do’s this shit, dude
You a lie, and the truth ain’t in you
Get crucified, I’ll shoot him and you
25 you like Snoop and Chris do

[Outro: Boldy James & sample]
Concreatures
Baby blocks (yeah, concreatures)
King James
When I die, lay me face down in the [?] green grass
And tell the whole damn world to kiss my goddamn ass

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