Thanksgiving Song Lyrics

Thanksgiving by Benny the Butcher

Yeah, this for all the plugs I met (Uh huh)
And the trenches, you can’t forget the trenches too

Yo, you anything like me, them hand to hand sales made you
I’m one of them hustlers you gotta tell thank you
Got advice from my dog, I accept it ’cause that’s love
He said, “We did the work, you givin’ too much credit to the plug”
That was us on that corner, Montana and Genesee
When niggas couldn’t sell it they self, they was hittin’ me
I was one call away, I pull up with the drugs with me
And you don’t know the pressure of owin’ the plug fifty
Got a jail call, he told me stay dangerous, take it easy
Was in the dayroom and couldn’t believe he saw me on TV
He spent money on his b**ch every time he got work through
Caught seven years and she only visited the first two, damn
Rappers in my genre want to be me still
I’m too far ahead, it’s easy to feel, like I’m cheatin’ when I read these deals
Talkin’ you live like this, that’s gonna make ’em hate you
This what fueled ’em to get off they asses, I made them greater
You should thank me, nigga

Y’all niggas can’t tell me what I should do (Tell me thank you)
Just thank me (Y’all niggas should tell me thank you)
I give y’all niggas somethin’ to watch, somethin’ to look forward too
I don’t want no opinions from who don’t take care of they kids (You should thank me, nigga)
(Somebody tell me thank you) Who got their homeboys in jail
You niggas gotta fix your life ‘fore you try to fix my sh*t (Tell me thank you)
I rap about drugs, this is what I want to talk about, nigga (Somebody tell me thank you)
Let me do me, nigga (You should thank me)
You don’t like my sh*t, turn my sh*t off, nigga

At the table rackin’ my brain, like, “How I’m back in the game?”
Went and did that little bid, now my hoes ain’t actin’ the same
Stressin’, I did them sentences without stackin’ no change
Gettin’ high inside, knowin’ my pride ain’t matchin’ my wage
Let me take you back to that blue buildin’, back in the day
While trappin’ two for fifteens, plus that was my age
From that little stage, two or three years I mastered my ways
We’d be the Jackson’s of Yay’ if they gave out plaques for the game
Let me take you back to that little pot, that little flame
Brick to a sports agency, we respect grindin’
I’m signin’ offensive lineman and BMX riders
You want a meetin’ with BSF then be a check writer
In therapy, learnin’ to walk again
Fought ’em in a robbery, they shot me
I’m back cocky in the jewelry that I bought again
They want me to post when I slide, to say I’m gangster
Trust me, it won’t make Instagram, it’s gonna make the papers
Thank us

Ah, tell me thank you
Y’all niggas should tell me thank you
You should thank me, nigga
You should thank me
Somebody tell me thank you
Y’all niggas should tell me thank you
Somebody tell me thank you