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Mind Control

de Benny The Butcher

Yeah, like, back home, you know
Shit, man, it was, it was impactful
You know, they knew our stories
And we blended so well together and shit
'Cause, you know, we got the same type of story (mm-hm)
Come from poverty environment, you know what I mean, drugs, prison
You don't get to hear a lot of artists
From that area, from two different cities (right)
I'm sayin' the two major cities of upstate New York, so (right)
Everything, everything, it was just a perfect blend, just the way it is now
Ain't nothin', ain't nothin' regular about this shit at all
STABBED & SHOT 2, uh, it's part two

A long way from that broke-down Alero
The hometown hero, who put a trap right on Ground Zero
I don't gotta lie to you, niggas
I really did this shit, uh
Too much light comin' through, I gotta let down the shades
Shit so real, gotta pat down the maid (ayy)
Packed out a stage, then I backed out the game
I been that nigga, why y'all actin' like that's about to change?
You know that Benz don't feel good as it look (It don't)
I take advice from thieves, hoodlums and crooks to get put on the books (uh)
Gave me my first taste when I got put on the jooks
Yeah, I made it out, but look what it took
Montana boys, three step to stamp, heroin money
Back when you grinded for it, so you cherished the money (nineties)
Fetty hit and broke niggas started inheritin' money
So when the game got crowded, it went terrible for me (goddamn)
Lyrical genius, this rap shit was a miracle to me (thank God)
I'm from holy ground, Buffalo like Jericho to me (thank God)
Smart problems and big dollars that'll bury them from me (huh)
Four in a row, the outcomes were a variable to me (yo)

I used to open up the house 'round seven
The town legend, that set up a trap and found Heaven
I don't keep track of the losses, I count blessings
Bosses don't hang around peasants
I'd rather be in the ground 'fore I be in a clown's presence
Haters wan' see me damn stressin'
Instead I'm caked up, I wake up receivin' wild texts
Made three hundred thou' feeding my child breakfast
Y'all niggas seem to sound desperate
Scorned, bitter, remind me of beefin' with wild exes
You told transcripts and your trials send it
I know you wish you can get the files shredded
Rappers act like they really the nicest
They just high off coke and their energy spikin'
Niggas sniff and then get identity crisis
Y'all slightly above average like the Tennessee Titans, motherfucker

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