Ah
Summer 26 in this bitch
The biggest
The Butcher comin' nigga

Yo, look, it's summer 26, thank God you made it through the winter
Niggas busting whips, 'cause they been saving since November
Where I'm from is gangsters, but no saviors for the sinners
Mask and gloves on like we got babies to deliver
I was on the turf when you were saving it for pin ups
Running through blocks like Terrell Davis did in Denver
When I felt trouble, a sense of danger I would pick up
But I'm in interviews just like it came without a hiccup
The gunpowder fragrance hang like frames on a picture
She back from Dr. And I see changes in her figure
A block shift on my strip ain't made for no beginner
I feel like a drops an even trade for a chinchilla
The son raised blades through you, it ages you but quicker
He only 17 and goin' through phases of a killer
You know my agenda, pyrex over the blender
She cut you broke niggas off to fuck a big spender

The butcher comin', these rappers wanted my spot for years
The success they got was mid
Deep down, they wanna swap careers
And I wish well to niggas
Don't let the rumors of Griselda splittin'
Force your over-confidence to fail you niggas
In a position I had to embrace
Every classic I made gave status and weight to these rappers upstate
The work pale like Dracula face, straps on our waist
We buckled up like I'm tryin' keep my passengers safe
Summertime, Butch 3, God bless the trilogy
The streets still runnin' shit, but y'all just through industry
I don't need no hot takes or complex delivery
I'm still top ten and don't need Complex to mention me
Oysters on a yacht, still hearin' voices from the block
Y'all sections be full of lab stones, moissanites, and bops
But fuck it, since I'm a run, you a gold in my eyes
Far as golds, y'all behind
Y'all tweetin' for ya even wiped the coal out your eyes
I'm from where these young niggas rock with felon music
And when the block get slow, they rob a credit union
And when it come, we cop first by the pelt
And you got a crown to Knicks since the Spurs got the belt
And I'm a real boss, I don't curse out the help
But I'm a little too famous to sell these birds by myself
Sending kites to the family, I know gon' get confiscated
Took my wife to to the Grammy's the year I got nominated, yeah

I'm with a couple hoes from London if I do kick it
And they just won a few tickets to the Roots Picnic
And my shawty in the back only shoot switches
And these hoes on these podcasts bootlickin'
Took the game and I fronted
I pulled that drop right to the front cause this was Shay would've wanted
It ain't no clouds and it's 90 outside, that mean it's grimy outside
But fuck it, you can still find me outside
Uh