Consignment lyrics

by

Beanie Sigel


[Produced by AraabMUZIK]


[Verse 1: Tsu Surf]
I'm payin' lawyers, never bought a Wraith
I’m burnin' cookies for this morning bake
I filled that sneaker box, I bought a safe
I felt them bullets on my daughter face
I coulda died so I ordered steak
I was gettin' head, thinkin' damn I could be dead
A .40 and a foreign, least two b*tches in my bed
That casket gotta come, I only fear the feds
Them conversations recorded, please be careful what you said
Just be making sure that baby straight
Friends with them dope fiends
Cuz got a pill problem, chasin' Perks with codeine
His family ain’t answerin' jail calls, let that phone ring
Quarter mil was overkill, I hit him with that whole thing
Know I gotta go, it’s a question where they send me
She say she never did this but that Fendi make her friendly
Hit the kitchen with that Whitney, get to butchin’ like I’m Benny
I whip it the hard way, won’t short me for a penny
I show you what this pain like, Xan pill, plane flight
That b*tch playin' bourgie, she be f*ckin' you the same night
Heard he mighta told, I can’t see him in the same light
We ain’t have no VVS’s officer these chains tight
Go and get a bust-down, double up your plate
Anytime that you ain’t ate go and rub it in they face
Consignment come from Buffalo, the plug send the bill
He ain’t got no bodies, can’t trust him on that drill

[Verse 2: B.E.N.N.Y. the Butcher]
I count the money, let the b*tches choose
And make kitchen moves
'Cause being broke at 30 make you miserable
You got them stacks I bring a chicken through
The way I whip it had captains and lieutenants in my living room
I’m established out in Liverpool
Countin' racks up while my accountant do my taxes in a different room
They puttin' status over principles
They ain’t stackin', half these little dudes
Just braggin' in their interviews
Streets tellin' me y’all got it, had my feet on collars
Since my plug gave me narcotics
If you tryna match 'em up, send me y’all hottest
The work come y’all negotiatin', we all cop it
sh*t cool ‘til your clique get robbed, a clip get tossed
Kill everything, get Chris Benoit'd
While y’all buy whips for broads, I bought clips for squads
Bodies drop then we lit cigars
The Butcher! Let’s go!
A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z #
Copyright © 2012 - 2021 BeeLyrics.Net