No Instructions

Harry Fraud, Benny the Butcher

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Benny the Butcher

Rory William Quigley (born January 26, 1987), known professionally as Harry Fraud, is an American record producer and composer. Primarily a hip hop producer, Fraud began producing at an early age and began interning at a recording studio after graduating high school. First discovered by French Montana during a recording session in Chinatown in early 2009, Fraud has gone on to become a fixture in the New York underground and mixtape scene. He gained mainstream attention when his song with French Montana "Shot Caller" became one of the most added tracks on urban contemporary radio between 2011-2012.Fraud has produced collaborative records with various rappers, such as Flight 2011 (2011) with Chinx Drugz; Rugby Thompson (2012) with Smoke DZA; Cigarette Boats (20… more »


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Ah
All my street niggas gon' pray to this one
(At this moment, I surrender my life to God)

Yo, we not connecting 'less we get paid (uh-huh)
Prison left me enraged, knife work Wesley in Blade (Wesley in Blade)
They know I'm up so they expect me to change (ah)
I'm plugged on both sides, dope boy with executive game (uh)
All my OG's encourage violence (they did)
That's where I turnt for guidance 
My hood make yo' block look like the Virgin Islands
This half a brick I'ma serve with kindness
Where dope is color, cut, clarity
And the same when you purchase diamonds
This flow right here I was the first to find it (first)
I sold work and grinded
My bitch ran the phone before she earned designer (earned designer)
This way of life you can tell we perfected
Unhealthy connections, I treat a plug like a wealthy investor
Uh-huh, jump in the whip open the roof up (open the roof up)
They tell you anything except open a book up (nah)
I thought different, I read the bible and the Quran
On a vinyl cot I sat behind them federal walls (federal walls)
I made a promise then signed a letter to God
But I broke it when I came home selling Mexican raw (Mexican raw)
Shit, so don't look at me like I'm perfect
Y'all worship these rap niggas, turnt this shit to a circus
My watch hittin' (hit)
Looking like I'm 'bout to blow a circuit (circuit)
Fans fly across seas to come and meet me in person
I still got flaws (flaws), a few relationships I got wronged (wronged)
I been stabbed in the back I got scars, damn (I got scars, damn)

It ain't no motherfucking haul out
My whole crew rocking gold and Rolexes
We talkin' where all the big money at
Everybody rockin' gold and Rollies
Crew's runnin' 'round that motherfucker looking like Master P
And this King of Buffalo, real shit
This shit out of control man, like
Shit, I had that Rick James, motherfucker
I'm charging motherfuckers fifteen to a thousand a month right now
Shit, I know your shit in Belize
Your shit gotta be at ten thousand a month then (let's go)

Dream big, just look what my team did (look what we did)
They try to box us in it's like the game seem rigged (damn)
These real facts and I used to trap where the fiends live (I did)
How he rap about gat's but don't actually squeeze his? (Don't actually squeeze his)
Ok I see, y'all believe these rappers if you want my nigga (if you want my nigga)
Let them convince you you to do what they never done my nigga
They just tryin' to sell records it's all a front my nigga (nigga's frontin')
But principals come first when you one of us my nigga
For killers with cold cases and no traces
Heard you said you could f*ck with gang, now that's a bold statement (f*ck outta here)
I'm like, "How? Your flow basic", hoes low maintenance 
You got caught with the whole cake and you got probation (nah, f*ck that)
When they freed us up out them cuffs we bought froze bracelets (ice)
Then got back to my fork on the side of the bowl scrapin'
From the scramblers, dodge cameras like old gangsters (old gangster)
And the gamblers throw the dice across the cold pavement (let's go)
You not safe, this clip in my new Glock great (doot, doot, doot, doot)
Long enough to do a drive by for two blocks straight (nigga)
I'll put money on your head from a shoe box bank (what's shakin'?)
And leave the murder unsolved like the Tupac case (ah)
We was young, we was rugged (uh)
Where I hung, we was buggin'
And rats get their stripes stripped and tongues in the oven (uh)
When it comes to this hustling, I got funds in abundance
And I learnt quick 'cause a brick don't come with instructions, uh

Like I was sayin', you know if I was out there what I'd have been doing
I would have a buss on, straight like that
Jay Rock and-, Jay Rock in the hood showing the bussdown
So they know these niggas is out of control
Like what the f*ck? It's like even bitches know the game, po-powerball, like
They want fucking-, f*ck all that shit
They know I was out there buying bitches in these streets
They want me to buy a bitch from jail, damn
Like damn bitch, I gotta buy them from in jail, too
This shit crazy, weak-ass bitch

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Written by: Jeremie Pennick, Rory William Quigley, Thomas Paladino, Tommy Flaaten

Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group

Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind

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    "No Instructions Lyrics." Lyrics.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2021. Web. 28 Nov. 2021. <https://www.lyrics.com/lyric/38245272/Benny+the+Butcher>.

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