"Benning Rd (Flyer Than You)" lyrics
[Intro]
[Hook:]
Remember back on Benning Road
We shooting dice and selling coke
Now what we do is we get way more high
And we be way more flyer than you
Remember back on Benning Road
We fucking hoes and stealing clothes
Then what we do is we get way more high
And we be way more flyer than you
[Verse 1 - Fat Trel:]
Lord
I step out on my trip me and my clique just hit the roof and crit
Swagger all ridiculous so you see who them groupies with'
Flying if I'm lying we do this shit all the time
Comes from a life of crime lot of money on my mind, so
I should go cop a couple cups of O and rush the 'dro
Reup at the sun and call and crush the block like "what you know?"
Benefit, no counterfeit the fuck you think we hustle for?
Meetings in Manhattan but we started out on Benning Road
Moving everything that them youngins from the pen import
Drinking out the sink and popping pink and getting legal dough
Tax it high, cop it low, drop the prices, shoot the dice
Get it then I pitch it I can never finish living life
Strip a bit, socialite, got me tatted on her twice
I'm an addict more I gotta have it ghetto lavish life
Live it used to dream the shit, worked the triple beemer shit
Now we making history, DC ain't never seen this shit
[Hook]
[Verse 2:]
I just made the label I'm so proud I get loud
Popping bottles, celebrating, you can't see me in the crowd
Used to be that dirty nigga, full of anger, from the North-East side
Handguns and O cups and northface when he ride
Travel with the studio, next step that G5
Inspiration: my daughter's eyes, that's why I'm on the rise
Ks and 9s, a nigga play me is homicide
Show me a sign, more, I got shot at a hundred times
I'm trying to re-up, relocate, get more cake
While I'm dodging new baby mommas in all them coke dates
Day trap is so fake, a shot but you a no weight
Shop with you and cop a block or two is what these coppers do
I'll probably pop a molly and try not to drop a body
I'm first class remember the metro and the trolly
They do it sloppy, me and my clique resemble the Gottis
I think we got it now, see me back here popping
[Hook]
[Hook:]
Remember back on Benning Road
We shooting dice and selling coke
Now what we do is we get way more high
And we be way more flyer than you
Remember back on Benning Road
We fucking hoes and stealing clothes
Then what we do is we get way more high
And we be way more flyer than you
[Verse 1 - Fat Trel:]
Lord
I step out on my trip me and my clique just hit the roof and crit
Swagger all ridiculous so you see who them groupies with'
Flying if I'm lying we do this shit all the time
Comes from a life of crime lot of money on my mind, so
I should go cop a couple cups of O and rush the 'dro
Reup at the sun and call and crush the block like "what you know?"
Benefit, no counterfeit the fuck you think we hustle for?
Meetings in Manhattan but we started out on Benning Road
Moving everything that them youngins from the pen import
Drinking out the sink and popping pink and getting legal dough
Tax it high, cop it low, drop the prices, shoot the dice
Get it then I pitch it I can never finish living life
Strip a bit, socialite, got me tatted on her twice
I'm an addict more I gotta have it ghetto lavish life
Live it used to dream the shit, worked the triple beemer shit
Now we making history, DC ain't never seen this shit
[Hook]
[Verse 2:]
I just made the label I'm so proud I get loud
Popping bottles, celebrating, you can't see me in the crowd
Used to be that dirty nigga, full of anger, from the North-East side
Handguns and O cups and northface when he ride
Travel with the studio, next step that G5
Inspiration: my daughter's eyes, that's why I'm on the rise
Ks and 9s, a nigga play me is homicide
Show me a sign, more, I got shot at a hundred times
I'm trying to re-up, relocate, get more cake
While I'm dodging new baby mommas in all them coke dates
Day trap is so fake, a shot but you a no weight
Shop with you and cop a block or two is what these coppers do
I'll probably pop a molly and try not to drop a body
I'm first class remember the metro and the trolly
They do it sloppy, me and my clique resemble the Gottis
I think we got it now, see me back here popping
[Hook]
Writer(s): Inconnu Compositeur Auteur, Martrel Rayshard Reeves
