Big Ben

[Intro]
(Elijah)
Yeah
Yeah
(Fuck the fire, we got grease)

[Verse]
Give me two weeks, I can run an M up
Give me three weeks, I can run another M up
That's five weeks, that's two M's
Twenty shots, chased a nigga down, they had two tens
I'm with Fill, I can go digital and spend two M's
I ran in Repeat and bought some Rick pants
KB on the corner side, that's my big man
He playin' big man
He sittin' on the bench, he the sixth man
I came straight home from prison, bought a big crib
I wonder how her head feel 'cause her lips big
Bitch got a flat ass, but her hips beg
This bitch dramatic, she start trippin' when I put the tip in
Before I let the switch off, I put the clip in
Pinky ring cost ninety grand, call me Big Ben
Earrings six carats, that's two hundred grand
The Escalade V was two hundred grand
The Lam' truck I bought was two hundred grand
Add that shit up, I'm ten hundreds in, nigga
That's a million cash
They ran up on the car and they did him bad
I took a fuckin' bar and couldn't remember math
Fuck around and paid too much money for a pint of Act'
Swear to God, but my drank man so real, he'll buy it back
Made my first hundred racks, I ain't know how to act
Who got some blue M-boxes? I need a ninety-pack
I need a whole script
I got a lot of money on me, why my clothes big
You niggas hoes, did
They hit him with an old K, man, that hole big
I know a nigga wanna smoke Ri for what lil' bro did
Fuck it, tell them niggas let's go to war
You gotta have money just to fund a war
I miss my cousin, but I miss my brother more
Crib so big, it got a hundred doors
Damn near got a nosebleed, I'm up a hundred floors
I got a bad bitch at home, but I be fuckin' whores
Got fresh as hell yesterday, look what I fuckin' wore
I wanna wear this shit twice, but I won't no more
I drunk some pop once, I don't want no more
I hear a lil' echo, Jay, close the door
I was tryna bust a four-five, got my shoulder sore
I won't let her suck my dick, she got a cold sore
Like what you like, the money or the hoes more?
I ain't gon' lie, bro, I like pros more
I'm talkin' all profit
They thought I ain't have no dog shit on me 'cause my pants had small pockets
Naw, I got a fuckin' bookbag on me
I got a duffel bag with ten leather patches on it
Bitch, this Chrome Heart, I'm a loan shark
Ayy, and I can still show you ten M— uh-huh
I could still show you ten M's when my phone charged, my shit still dead
They shot the nigga five years ago and he still dead
I got some old Hi-Tech, it's brown, but it's still red