Gold Plated Leica Lyrics – Benny the Butcher

Gold Plated Leica Lyrics Meaning

[Intro]
(Summertime Butch)
[Benny’s alter ego during summer hustle mode]
[Chorus: OT The Real & Benny the Butcher]
The chorus sets the tone for the track, showing how dangerous and intense the streets get during the summer. Security is tight—cameras are everywhere, watching everything. People are hungry, literally and figuratively, and only the strong or smart survive. Their product is always top quality, the one others try to match. In this world, hunger drives ambition, and competition is constant.

[Verse 1: Benny the Butcher]
Benny starts by saying he never leaves the house without his gun and his most expensive watch. That’s his daily armor—he’s protecting himself and showing his status at the same time. Ever since he got shot, he’s been more alert, like his whole system got shocked into survival mode. He calls himself the “Godfather,” saying he’s easy to spot, a known figure in the game.

He compares himself to Jamal Crawford, a basketball player known for coming off the bench and instantly heating up. That’s Benny—always ready, always effective. While others had things handed to them, he had to work with what he had, learning the hustle by managing numbers and making smart moves.

He says he “bloomed late,” like a summer flower, meaning he didn’t blow up early but found success on his own time. He knows the Feds are watching, especially his money and cars. That’s why he’s cautious, even when taking photos—he doesn’t smile because it might be a setup or surveillance shot.

He casually talks about cooking up product (most likely drügs), saying the meet-up point was a barbecue joint—turning something casual into a coded location for business. He even served white customers who weren’t forced into the habit but chose it. When they whistled for him, he just shouted back so they’d follow his voice, showing how much of a known figure he is in that scene.

He’s proud of outsmarting the system, beating the game that others failed at. Many tried but never reached his level. He gives advice: think ahead but stay humble, it’ll help you sleep better at night.

His place is so full of cameras that it doesn’t even look like a trap house anymore—it looks like an electronics store. That’s how seriously he takes security.

Then the hook comes back, repeating the message: the streets are hot, full of violence, and only the hungry survive. Whatever they bring to the game is the standard others try to top.

He switches back to storytelling, talking about a guy who always came through when people needed things—whether it was drügs, guns, or favors. But he also had nothing guaranteed until the deal was actually in hand. Sometimes things go wrong—like when someone gets charged for stolen goods just because the drügs weren’t found.

He brings up some bikers in Texas who beat a RICO case, and no one snitched. That’s rare. Loyalty matters, and when your circle holds firm, you stay solid.

Benny then talks about coming home from jail, getting back to his grind. He had done time, kept a gun close, and recognized that things are different now. He’s tired of seeing guys do time or die in the process. These days, even friendships can be divided by war—you have to choose sides and live or die by that decision.

He mentions how hidden compartments in a car can fit bricks (drügs), and how he wasn’t the one driving. He just told the girl not to speed. That whole situation is risky, but it’s part of the game.

Then he reflects again: it’s been a tough journey. Money’s powerful, women lie, and guns are always in play. He ends this part by repeating that chorus again—reinforcing the same message: danger’s always around, the game never slows down, and survival is about hunger and hustle.

Then he steps in as “Big Butch,” feeling comfortable in his own hood. He throws shade at other rappers who can’t go back to where they came from, while he still can. His operation stretches far—from Pittsburgh to Austin—and he’s balling so hard, he’s spending ten grand just for an NBA playoff game.

He’s comparing work (product) with his guy Kush and tells him to just drop it off. He won’t even answer the phone until everything’s secured and handled. The plug (supplier) gave him ten packs, and within a week, he’s already flipping them and getting blown up for more. Business is booming.

He says he’s “camera shy,” only posing for fan pics, not for anyone trying to build a case. He’s been counting so much money that he’s getting paper cuts—another way of flexing his hustle.

While others pray for luck, he just puts in work and earns fast. He compares leaving the game to Sugar Ray Leonard switching his boxing stance—he’s adjusting his position but still dangerous. Even with a “brick” (a kilo of drügs) in his hand, he’s sharp and focused.

He warns that if anyone goes to war with his crew, they better have backup. His people don’t play around. Hustlers like him are built to last, and the product pretty much sells itself.

He ends by talking about a huge shipment that hit the streets and sold out fast—just three days. The security is so tight, they even got cameras in the kitchen, like it’s game tape, watching every move for mistakes or for protection. Then that final chorus hits one last time, tying the whole story together: constant watch, constant danger, and a game where only the sharpest survive.