#KingButch

Check check, 1,2

1,2 check

Microphone check 1,2

Yo yo yo

1,2 check check check

1,2 yo yo yo

Cut me a check

Pass it to the homie on the couch

Yellowstone room homie welcome to the south

Bringing up a check calling to collect

Studio love, got the jewels on the couch

What's that all about

Holler baby shout

You know we Butcher Brown

and we finna turn it out

You know you can not do without me the medicine in your brain

Without the intermission high

King Butch coming like a freight train

in the left lane

150 miles an hour kind of insane

Real shit man

Me belying higher octane with the big man can't cut string

Obtain every title known to man

So everybody in the world know my name

African to the death

With an S on my chest, a no brainer

Not fit for containers

Get it or get out but homie just make a decision

Looking through the prism for the intermission

**** hoping and wishing

Yo we designed for the grind

Mind sent soldiers holding on the front line

We took the beast and mixed it with the savage

And put the shit in a soup

I got habits that's mad lavish

Remembered all the homies that they told me you could have it

Cause you could have it with the sweat from your neck

And a self placed bet in the mirror

Stand tall my nigga your dreams on your shoulders

A hundred million lashes but you know they couldn't hold us

They overworked and undersold us

With a bag full of fries and some sugar soda

Even with the blueprint they know they can't decode us

As I peel out with a beautiful in the yellow Lotus

I stay focused and stay close with all the homies from the ville

I keep it real

You know the deal

Tennishu

Butcher Brown

King Butch

Best band in the world