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Unknown T – BATTY & BENCH (Freestyle pt. II) Lyrics

Unknown T – BATTY & BENCH (Freestyle pt. II) Lyrics

Forget the shank, heard they said that, “Drill’s dead”
Bit of mileage, rev and they’re live instead
I don’t know ’bout chattings, I grind instead
Fuck it, I might as well fly these pebs
Pass mode, but my clients in debt
Where my dough? You don’t know violence means bread
It’s silent when the waps and the ding’s in the glides intense (Euff)
Look, opps can’t fuck with a ‘tug
Bust and spin, we make the Tridents come
We’re live, more time, it’s a 98 ting
I rap, but I still might provide that gun
Shotgun, two cases, two operations done, listen
They can run, can’t hide ‘cah cases get flung (Mhm, mhm)
The location’s dumb, of course, you couldn’t come (Listen)

Who’s said, “Drill’s dead”?
Still bangin’ off lead ’til everything’s red
A yute got done, ain’t a corpse, but course we attempt (Euff)
Spent two thousand on the broom, start runnin’
I hate dumb yutes on the fence
No cautions, crash, splash it with intent (Yuck)
I’m vexin’, a boy givin’ batty and bench
This corn’s like a rash, it spreads (Grrt)

You ain’t ever been live in the T with a live in the tee
Done drills, I repent, QZ’s, represent
Dumb paparazzis wan’ pree the events
If the scenes red taped, it’s a serious offense
I’ma back my brolo, we never fence, I’ll leave you in a drench (Erugh)
Grown men try act tough, fill ’em with cents
Check the crime scene, it’s a ments (Erugh)
Me and my Glocks like batty and bench
Rass this, span the cartridge
We attendin’ then drop out, feed them revenge, boom
Side by side with a G Lock, 3-point turn ‘cah we blew off again
My red chop ting hold skengs
Stamp on the brown and peng
Pen sizes or attempts and a whole leap of trials, buss them, boom
It’s my turn, little baby
Tell my bae, “No pictures”, that’s a baities
Babylon hate me, but the world rate me
Livin’ life like the crack game in the 80’s (Yuck)
About drill is dead, I’m dead
All the bros got bread, maybe, you’re just lazy
Heard the plug got stained by a kid
That’s my young thug, shit, call me feisty (Tekky)

Who’s said, “Drill’s dead”?
Still bangin’ off lead ’til everything’s red
A yute got done, ain’t a corpse, but course we attempt (Euff)
Spent two thousand on the broom, start runnin’
I hate dumb yutes on the fence
No cautions, crash, splash it with intent (Yuck)
I’m vexin’, a boy givin’ batty and bench
This corn’s like a rash, it spreads (Grrt)

Grrt, listen, opps can’t fuck with a ‘tug
Bust and spin, we make the Tridents come
We’re live, more time, it’s a 98 ting
I rap, but I still might provide that gun
Listen, opps can’t fuck with a ‘tug
Bust and spin, we make the Tridents come
Woosh, woosh, tek and run
Bust the spin, we make the Tridents come

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