Back 2x (feat. Stove God Cooks)

Ah
Ayo, from now on, niggas got to call me the Pyrex man
I gotta stamp that shit
Niggas tryna take my shit, Mr. Pyrex Man, that's me, nigga
Feel what I'm sayin'?
The Butcher, nigga
I know what y'all want
Y'all want me back on that Daringer shit, nigga
I know what y'all niggas want
Mr. Pyrex Man
You know what I do with a fork, nigga
Yo, uh-huh

I'm eatin' caviar off ciabatta that's chopped in When I quit, the guys I fed off narcotics done got slim
My style mixed with Boldy James now and 2Pac then
Don't compare me to no nigga that's not in the top ten
And all that weird rapper shit
And they not near half as this
Be in my ear cappin' while I'm focused on the tier after this
Put out a number one, then another one less than a year after it
I'm humble, but you fuckin' bums should be somewhere practicin'
These Cartiers with the diamonds solitaire hazardous
I swear these hoes fall out the air soon as they stare at this shit
Square packages, I stepped on 'em, StairMaster bricks
Then whipped another half a square out my rare bag of tricks
This one for the family no matter what awards they hand me
I went and spent another buck on some water I can call a Grammy
I took orders cookin' fancy in kitchens like Gordon Ramsey
Agents make sure they payin' me, my trap like a Morgan Stanley
For niggas knew what happened, I was on Montana with white
Arm & Hammer with ice, connected like Joe Montana and Rice
Scanners and lights, you value your team, you payin' 'em right? (You payin' 'em right?)
Candid advice, you gon' need 'em when they read the Miranda rights, yeah
The first day my dog got his whip, we was smokin' in it
He had a Glock on his hip, thirty plus shots was loaded in it
I told him, go and tint it, he said, fuck that, had no intentions
'Cause when he pull up slow with switches, he want 'em to know he did it, uh

We brought it back, back
I dropped it in the pot, it came back, back
Soon as we unload this rental, we right back, back
Have my shooter bend a corner, I bet he back, back
Back, back
We dropped it in the pot, it came back, back
Soon as we unscrew these doors, boy, we back, back
I have my shooter bend a corner, bet he back, back

Was cooking cocaine in designer
I turned seventeen ounces to thirty-nine
Watched big homie lay that shit up on the heat like Harold Miner
I just dropped mine on the heat like Kyle Lowry, all the Vlone came from Bari
All the kilos came stamped with a balloon, it's time to party
Drivin' sixes in the Sun with that rocket, I think I'm Barkley
And I ain't bring a chip home
Bitch, I brought a brick home
Did it off the flip phone
Had the feds in there tip-toein'
I left some dirty pots and a note that said: I been gone
I been hit that number, bitch, I been up, bitch, I been on (Bitch, we been on)
We was worth six figures on them barbershop steps
Was cookin' hard with my left
Parallel parkin' my Lex'
Hear the barkin' from them bundles, had that dog food on deck
Now my last check look like I play for the Nets
But we ain't breakin' no sweat
We in the rental, 'bout to freeze, don't you turn up the degrees, it's a brick in the vent
Stove

We brought it back, back
I dropped it in the pot, it came back, back
Soon as we unload this rental, we right back, back
Have my shooter bend a corner, I bet he back, back
Back, back
We dropped it in the pot, it came back, back
Soon as we unscrew these doors, boy, we back, back
I have my shooter bend a corner, bet he back, back