Lyrics of 'Johnny P’s Caddy (feat. J. Cole)' by Benny The Butcher

Yeah, you know?
Tana Talk 4, this shit mean a lot to me, know what I mean?
You know this shit don't feel as good as it look
I'ma keep it real with you
I'm straight, though (I'm good)
This street shit made me what I am today
Niggas know I went so hard for this shit
I deserve this shit, nigga
The Butcher comin', nigga

This ain't my story 'bout rags to riches, more 'bout how I mastered physics
In the game, I used to train like Rocky, catchin' chickens
I was nice, but they was right when they told me that rap a business
I had ten bands in my stash when I passed over half a million
Come easily? No good, don't be surprised I outlast these niggas
It's like they put out a smash thеn they gone in a flash, admit it
And then thеy make tracks and diss us like that's gon' add up the digits
They showin' fake racks in pictures like that's gon' attract the bitches
That was really me, nigga, I ain't have to act in Conflicted
Only difference is I'm livin', and I would've whacked one of 'em niggas
Who knew that after drug dealin' I'd still be casual spending mil' plus?
Annual income, so here's my manual and then some
And this Eastside shit still in me
My ability to turn words to imagery prolly the reason they gon' remember me
Figure me, walk this tightrope with a feline's agility
The streets did so much shit to me, I can never live civilly
I can never leave the scene without checkin' my mirrors visually
Come with that energy 'cause some shit gon' always stick with me
They wanna know what I brought to Griselda, I say: Validity
They askin': What work y'all niggas put in?
I'm like: What didn't we?
Problems that I correct through the obstacles I progress
Illogical for them to feel they responsible for our success
Besides Con' and West, tell me, who else I gotta respect? (Who else?)
'Cause I'm kinda perplexed, it's 'bout time that I got my respect
It's the Butcher, nigga
Ah, let's go

'Bout time that I got my respect, it's the Butcher, nigga
Yeah, Cole fuckin' World
Griselda shit, you know what I mean? (Griselda)
You know what it is, nigga, when I show up
I'm on ten, nigga, not nine

On the night I was born, the rain was pourin', God was cryin'
Lightnin' struck, power outage, sparks was flyin'
The real one's here, the young boy that walk with lions
Around the outlines of chalk where the corpses lyin'
Of course I'm tryin' to revive a sport that's dyin'
But the guns and the drug bars that y'all relyin'
Got these nerds thinkin' that you niggas hard as I am
But that just mean I ain't as comfortable as y'all with lyin'
Stretchin' the truth, know I never stress in the booth
They feel the pressure, me I feel like I just left the masseuse
Effortless, how I'm skatin' on these records is proof
I put your favorite rapper neck in a noose, never lettin' them loose
Cole World, the heat'll blast through your speaker
He the last of Mohicans, no weaklings last in my sneakers
Nigga want me on a song, he gon' see the wrath of the reaper
I'm prolly gon' go to Hell if Jesus ask for a feature
I'm higher than niggas and don't need a bag full of reefer
Some see the glass as empty, I see a glass full of ether
Collectin' his bread en masse like he a Catholic preacher
Just to count a nigga cash, you might need a calculus teacher
Eureka, Einstein on the brink of the theory of relativity
Really, no MC equal, feel me?
Cole pen be lethal, crib like an old MTV show, uh
On God, the best rapper alive
Headshot, now go and ask the best rappers that died
They'll tell you he never lied, nigga

Yeah, Tana Talk