[Intro]
Ayo, I had to get somethin' off my chest
Had to get somethin' off my chest, right
Turn me up, turn the beat up some
You know, karma's a bitch, she a dirty bitch
Ayo, City Boy, remember we robbed them niggas
For about fifty in jewels and a hundred in cash?
Hahaha, this shit all come back though
Ah, yo (And I'm doin' this shit from a wheelchair)

[Verse 1]
Uh, quarter million in a week
I made your bitch come assist with the count
She could be a thief but because of that mouth
I give her the benefit of the doubt
Yeah, extra twenty off a brick
Those the benefits of a drought, nigga
I can't even sit on a couch with you
If it's really bricks in the house, nigga
For my city, know how I rock
Breaking news story linked by the cops
Cuban links on me, too thick to snatch
To run off with mines, I had to get shot

[Chorus]
Rolls Royce truck, they said we stood out
Only one mistake, I ain't have a lookout
Quarter in jewels, shoppin' at Walmart
Take me out the hood, but can't take the hood out


[Verse 2]
Made my whole city wanna be rappers (Yeah)
I made the trappers all shoot for the ceiling
We turned a brick to a lucrative business
My net worth about a cool two million
Already know what you do for them hoes
But it's about what you do for your niggas
Meetings with HOV and kickin' it with E
I put my team in a room with them billions
Fuck all the bloggers, the niggas who shot me
Fuck all the opps and fuck Wendy Williams
Can't trust nobody, it's all smoke and mirrors
I still ain't make no real friends in this business

[Chorus]
Rolls Royce truck, they said we stood out
Only one mistake, I ain't have a lookout
Quarter in jewels, shoppin' at Walmart
Take me out the hood, but can't take the hood out

[Verse 3]
Niggas told me since this shit happened that I'm lit
I should take advantage of it
That's why I really can't stand you suckers
Go to Instagram but won't handle nothin'
Out the hospital to a private jet
The bullet really ain't damage nothin' (I'm good, nigga)
Niggas would've been in my position
I bet they would've hit the panic button, man
(Niggas get shot everyday, B) They was sent for me
My dawg in Houston got a tip for me
Mexicans that'll wig for me
Their pinky fingers gettin' sent to me, yeah
Interviews with me, all sent offers
Stuck to the code, the mob, no talkin'
Won't talk about it on camera
Unless it's with Anderson Cooper or Barbara Walters

Benny The Butcher - 3:30 In Houston (Official Audio) Griselda Records

Quotable Lyrics:

Drunk by intoxicness, all blessed
All dressed is God’s royalty
God’s just wanna be righteous Lords accordingly
Educated by the highly elevated
Melinated, and mind renovated
Once they stumble across the right answer

MF DOOM

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