One Way Flight lyrics

[Intro: Benny The Butcher]
(Griselda) Yeah
Jansport J
Y'all don't ask me no questions, just listen to this sh*t
Uh (Hit-Boy)

[Verse 1: Benny The Butcher]
She catch a one-way flight to kick it wherever I'm at
So if she want to stay, then the b*tch'll never come back
You wanna know how a chip feel? I've been there once
This year three, in the beginnin' of a ten-year run
And as predicted, my persistence got my name on all the lists
Had a brick before a rack, like that dope boy from Memphis
I survived all them death threats and three felony convictions
Plug found out my whole team was hot, he kept his distance
What's a stage with no mic and no voice of a poet?
What's more important, the flower or the soil that grow it?
Yeah, it's cool, but one rule, don't get caught in the moment
Or it's back to swingin' ratchets and warmin' up water
Starvin' made me thin, it ain't no mercy in this game we in
Odds stacked against us, had to play to win
I got a broad, I never saw her before 1 AM
I'm out west in Crazy Girls, cleanin' out the ATM, let's go

[Chorus: Freddie Gibbs]
Phone so burnt, I need my pager back
Trips with that work, my baby made it back
I f*ck with them hoes, I know she hated that
You gon' cry in that Toyota or this Maybach?
[Verse 2: Benny The Butcher]
This for hustlers with straight cash, not b*tches with fake bags
For hoes who fall in love with trappers and break bags
She textin' my homie, but I'm f*ckin' hers, she fake mad
These hoes can't handle a n*gga they can't have
Unlucky for y'all, you know who the f*ck is in charge
I put a couple in jars, let it fluff 'til it's hard
I'm at JAY house, Kerry James Marshall cover the wall
Enough cushion I could cover the fall, you know business is business
b*tches is b*tches and they f*ckin' us all
You know how life go, you stuck with your flaws, what's that about?
They had me f*cked up, n*ggas thought I'd suffer for long
I'm drivin', countin' money with hundreds on the Cullinan floor, uh huh
Put my hands together and I pray for the bread
'Cause I get five jail calls a day from the feds
Go to sleep with an alarm and a K on the ledge
And the fireproof thousand pound safe in the crib, ah

[Chorus: Freddie Gibbs]
Phone so burnt, I need my pager back
Trips with that work, my baby made it back
f*ck with them hoes, I know she hated that
But you gon' cry in that Toyota or this Maybach?

[Interlude: Freddie Gibbs]
Waist stash
Rollie, she fake mad
[Verse 3: Freddie Gibbs]
Uh, I said f*ck it, wasn't gon' do a verse
Bought some ugly white girl, when I whipped it, it's Miss Universe
'Migo brought the chickens on the bird, that's that Scooter work
I control my b*tch's OnlyFans, I got computer work
Freddie Kane, I keep a college b*tch on the '94 with the waist stash
Baby daddy bought her that fake Rollie, she fake mad
Butcher and the Rabbit, got damn it, check our credentials
Hoes get f*cked and sent home early just like the Clippers
Is you with it b*tch?

[Chorus: Freddie Gibbs]
Phone so burnt, I need my pager back
Trips with that work, my baby made it back
f*ck with them hoes, I know she hated that
But you gon' cry in that Toyota or this Maybach?