Arcade

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Butch Dawson

Butch Dawson is a musical artist known for his genre-blending style, incorporating elements of rap, R&B, and experimental music. He gained recognition for his introspective and unique sound, often tackling personal experiences and social issues in his lyrics. more »

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Intro
Before I leave the house I take the wrinkles out my shirt
Beat it till it hurt
You cant see me on this earth
Bitch Iʼm fresh to death might drop nine thousand on my hearse
You not finding justice where I come and it hurts 

Verse
You get a sensation when them licks turn to work
Dick in the dirt
Bitch Iʼm alert
Butch be getting blessing after thinking he was cursed Walk around these block I pray to God I donʼt get murked Every corner I be on I swear it gotta church
I blow gas just like I burped
Thats a mattress full of purp
I throw money at the clerk
F*ck a check I go bezerk
Got Menyelik on my shirt
Now she lifting up her skirt
Keep yo hand Im ready!
I take a breath on that trigger im steady
Flesh on your fleece no no this aint spaghetti
My knees are weak
My arms are heavy
Taking a break
Now I am deadly
If you know me I donʼt rock no Guissepies
They in the closet your swag is R Kelly
These niggas Jelly Im watching the Jellies
And there is nothing you niggas can tell me 
It aint a drug that you niggas can sell me You tryna base your whole off of Belly? Im tryna get a new bag like next week Still eat the noodles I live at the deli 
Girl right beside me a Liza Mineli
This rap shit my hobby You niggas aint ready
You know where find me in case you want test me 

Chorus 
Play no games no arcade
All about the rackades
Ima blow her back out
Give that bitch a back ache
All about the rackades 
Let it rip like Beyblade
In that Pelle Pelle
Might call up young Jefe 

Play no games no arcade
All about the rackades
Ima blow her back out
Give that bitch a back ache
All about the rackades 
Let it rip like Beyblade
In that Pelle Pelle
Might call up young Jefe 

Outro 
Before I leave the house I take the wrinkles out my shirt
Beat it till it hurt
You cant see me on this earth
Bitch Iʼm fresh to death might drop nine thousand on my hearse 
You not finding justice where I come and it hurts

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