2 Chainz, Lil Wayne & Benny the Butcher – Oprah & Gayle Lyrics

This song leaked on March 27, 2020. It features Lil Wayne, 2 Chainz, & Griselda member Benny The Butcher, and it could potentially be off of the rumored Collegrove 2 album. Wayne also makes fun at the recent development of “coronavirus” by saying he has “stoner-virus” and girls in the studio have “Patron-a-virus” and “loner-virus.”

Oprah & Gayle Lyrics by 2 Chainz, Lil Wayne & Benny the Butcher

[Intro: 2 Chainz]
It’s worth starting it back
Bars K, K know what this is
Ay, ay, ay woadie
Them niggas I was tellin’ ya about
Me, Wayne, and one them Griselda niggas
Collegrove
It’s so many bars, this song crazy

[Verse 1: 2 Chainz]
Checkerboard luggage, ramen in the cupboard
I left Art Basel with a sculpture
You listening to the lyrical nunchuck, chuckling dumbfucks
Vocals warmed up, beyond Ford tough
I kept my lawn cut, mispell and conduct
I got my arm out the window of an armed truck
It’s Teamster Union when you hear the trucks roll up
On Cleveland Avenue made plays at the Kroger
Came up on cold cuts, heart got a hole in it, bank got a roll in it
The Cessna Citation came with a pole in it
The Cullinan so big it need a stove in it
Now that’s deep I just dove in it
The closet came with garage doors
The Goyard is on all fours, I do this shit for encores
I did this shit in Tom Ford, they said I’m wrong for it
I’m so fly I looked up and said get on boy
It’s the man, it’s the myth, in the midst of the minks
With the M’s on my mind in Maui taking pics
Motivated by more that mean
I want more of this, I want more jewelry
More cars I want more cribs, what you expect from a kid?
That grew up with his stomach touching his rib
Echos coming from out the fridge
My papa was a rolling stone I thought you knew that
Don’t smoke no cig but I’ll shoot that true facts

[Interlude: Lil Wayne]
Naw mean?
My lighter St. Laurent
Yeah
That’s St. Laurent fire
You gotta hold it in ya hand when me, Lil Wayne do a verse like this, yeah

[Verse 2: Lil Wayne]
Uh
Hoppin’ outta slide outs
Runnin’ through a walkthrough
Coupe on big wheels like a pony wearin’ horse shoes
Tall money, short fuse, long money, long ooh
Champagne Papi part 2, she my corkscrew
Tattoos over war wounds, wrist look like its on zoom
Neck look like anime or cartoons art to ‘em
I got the spikes on the Gucci look like Bart to ‘em
Gimmie the Nikes lemme add some Comme Des Garcons to ‘em
Stunt man
Verses in my lunch bag, rappers on my launch pad
Chopper make ‘em do the criss-cross or make ‘em jump dance
Lump somes, hump bands
What’s a young man without a check?
Just a Jumpman, fuck that, Jordan meme
I’ma sip some lean, getta ting and go quarantine
I’ma get some bling let it bling like some Oil Sheen
I’ma put some fuckin’ princess cuts on the queen
And I keep all of the chin check stubs I redeem
This our team, my regimen, I’ma higher being
Purple smoke fire green, sweet ‘n’ sour cream
Peakin’ higher now we towering, peak position
Give my people power now we power fiends
It’s addiction, feelin’ like a boxer steppin’ out the ring
Ya swing ya missin’
Critically thinkin’ ‘bout the critics up in critical condition
I’m in pitiful condition
Scratch that, but who was itchin’?
Teamsters the union did it
Tune ‘n Tity, Young Money, Tru Religion
[Interlude: Lil Wayne]
Shit, Saint Laurent lighter, woo
I got “stoner-virus,” baby
Her right there? She got “Patron-a-virus,” hmm-mm
And her over there? She wouldn’t let me fuck so now she got “loney-virus”, alright
Ayy, stop leasin’ niggas
We gotta get that “homeowner-virus” like me

[Verse 3: Benny The Butcher]
Yo, they was laughin’, but we was smart drug trafficking
We was sharks (Uh-huh)
I had to chase the paper down until
We trapped the money in vault, kinda crazy
My last bid was the shortest and she didn’t wait for me
Spent half my 20s in prison and aged gracefully
It’s paper, you know we grind, place a wager
And you be fine (Uh-huh)
I put my fork down now every major want me to sign
Left the hood for Hollywood
It wasn’t worth being famous (It wasn’t worth it)
For every chick got a beamer and a personal trainer (Ha-ha)
I’m into business moves, she into Paris fashion (Uh-huh)
It cost me at least twenty grand a year on her hair and lashes
Love I done inherited music was both of my parents’ passion
My name come up, we been talkin’ dope and comparing classics (Uh-huh, uh-huh)
Stare at me good, ’cause this how pressure look
They want my spot but tryna skip every step I took
I wish ’em the best of luck
I asked a question, and he gave me an answer
That still left a nigga confused like Brady in Tampa
Back home, I’m one of the narcos, semi autos
Dodge fans like New York City potholes
Yeah, the OGs think that it’s funny
Money made me more hungry
‘Cause majority wait til they chubby
And then get comfy, nah
Get that first case then you learn to appreciate
All the risks you gotta take
To turn a Ford to a Wraith (Uh-huh)
Checkin’ in on my hood, like I hope all is well
I’m still close to my scale, we like Oprah and Gayle