All 70 lyrics

[Intro: Benny the Butcher]
Yeah, uh
If this don't wake the streets up, I don't know what will
It's Benny
Griselda
Uh, this my life, n*gga, I'm still front line
I'm still front line, n*gga

[Verse 1: Benny the Butcher]
Yo, I put the truth on every page I jotted
I slang narcotics from the steps of my crib, my mom complained about it (For real)
I weighed my options, persuaded by the chains and watches
Only if you saved your profit, you obtain them objects (Gotta stash that)
Shoeboxes to bank deposits, and I'm thankful, honest (I'm thankful)
Uh, 'cause I'm to my city, probably what Dre to Compton (Real sh*t)
We started off gram coppers, now we land shoppers
Rubber bands poppin' in my Balmain pants pocket
First I opened up a trap, then I franchised it (And another one)
Taking chances with the n*ggas I played with in sandboxes (My day ones)
My flow street, smart, and toxic
Life of a vet, Griselda, write us a check, we get your brand profit (Spend that money)
They gon' label us the greatest regardless (Regardless)
We been through worse conditions so that made us the hardest, uh
These n*ggas aiming like that made us a target (Stop it)
Bag full of straps, that's like two hundred pages of charges, uh (We got big sh*t)
[Chorus: Benny the Butcher & Westside Gunn]
I'm riding with my fourth felony (My fourth felony)
I know n*ggas with bodies who talk pleasantly (Talk pleasantly)
It's fifty in the drum, twenty in the SIG (Add it up)
And if I'm lucky, you catching all seventy (All seventy)
(Uh, brrra, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot)
(Boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom) Catching all seventy
(Brrra) It's fifty in the drum, twenty in the SIG (Brrra, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom)
You catching all seventy (Doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot)

[Verse 2: Conway the Machine]
Look, still spit it the hardest, ain't nothing changed (Changed)
I drink a cup of pain while I fluff the 'caine
You a sucker and a lame, we ain't the f*cking same (You pus*y)
A rapper mention my name, I'ma bust his brain (Boom, boom)
Yeah, every n*gga from my block a savage
Rob and poppin' ratchets, droppin' caskets, we are not your average (Griselda, n*gga)
I got shot in my top but it ain't stop the passion
I just got up and got sh*t poppin', I kept droppin' classics (Facts)
Eight hundred for my Versace glasses
Teaching my youngins how to break up the bricks, call it karate classes (Ha)
Drop the top on the Aston out in Calabasas (Vroom)
b*tch ass so fat, she hopped out and it stopped the traffic (Hahaha)
Huh, I was just at NOBU eating lobster with Jasmine
Racks and pocket diamonds in the watch was flashing (You see me baby)
Talking crazy, n*gga, I know how to stop the madness (Uh-huh)
I'ma just have El Camino pop his cabbage (Brrrt)
They ain't give me sh*t when they was wrapping blocks in plastic (Uh-uh)
Now they hurting and I'm up, they had to watch it happen (Ah)
Get out of pocket, n*gga, watch what happens
Choppers blasting (Brrrt), shots not stopping 'til your top is splashing (Facts)
Griselda, we 'bout to lock this sh*t
It's funny how n*ggas hating on my accomplishments but ain't accomplished sh*t (Dumb-ass n*ggas)
See, I'm a real n*gga and you the opposite
The whole summer, my young boys chopping sh*t
Griselda, n*gga (Grrrt)
[Chorus: Benny the Butcher & Westside Gunn]
I'm riding with my fourth felony (My fourth felony)
I know n*ggas with bodies who talk pleasantly (Talk pleasantly)
It's fifty in the drum, twenty in the SIG (Add it up)
And if I'm lucky, you catching all seventy (All seventy)
(Uh, brrra, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot)
(Boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom) Catching all seventy
(Brrra) It's fifty in the drum, twenty in the SIG (Brrra, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom)
You catching all seventy (Doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot, doot)

[Outro: Benny the Butcher]
It's fifty in the drum, twenty in the SIG
And if I'm lucky, you catching all seventy
Woo
It's fifty in the drum, twenty in the SIG
n*gga, you catching all seventy