designer belts - jarren benton lyrics
[intro]
yeah
ill nigga, tell a friend b-tch
money over b-tches while the world still spin
[verse 1: jarren benton]
yeah, forever terminating trash
middle finger to the pigs that’s exterminating blacks, fuck ’em
lord benton i’m moving expensive linens
fuck my slave name, i’m switching it to a emblem
i never trust the system investin’ in private prisons
as long as i’m breathing i’m probably the livest livin’
name a nigga iller than me, i’ll wait
they ain’t fucking with the god, how, sway?
fuck these labels i bet i leave with my masters
black lives never mattered as long as i’m eating rappers
rest in pissed, i never honor you chumps
these niggas swagger jackin, you chumps melania trump
click, click, blaow
put you niggas in a permanent slump
never smell no weird odors when i’m burning a blunt
yeah, they be like “mr. benton you quite odd.”
atheist, i never pray to a white god
no disrespect to my white folks
but they be like “we want that old jarren, the psycho.”
since my nigga died, i ain’t been the same
fuck the skitzo, pussy nigga, come feel this pain
i got family in flint, michigan
these motherfuckers poison the water to get rid of them
a couple bucks will make your life switch
i don’t trust the government, my wife nor my side b-tch
yeah, a nigga crying for help
a taste for suicide i hang from designer belts
yeah, god bless america, if it ain’t your own then the pigs gon’ come and bury you niggas
[bridge: coach]
*right hand over my strap. my country ’tis of thee, sweet land of liberty*
[verse 2: elz jenkins]
complain about bullshit while niggas do fed time
some niggas that got clipped got nothing but bed time
you voted for donald trump, your vote was a hate crime
the world looking strange, dawg, i ride with a tec 9
i’m coming with the facts involved, taxin’ y’all
so call me when the straps involved
talkin trap, panther party with the action, dawg
.44’ll waste kids like i’m jackin’ off
swear a nigga wanted to flip
i was nice with basketball still i wanted a brick
got the brand new fives, still i want me a six
like a nigga got a wife but still i want me yo b-tch
sold crack on the corners to back to back all the foreigns
i put my mind to it and got it right off the tour
and still they pull me over like, “what the fuck is you doing?”
“save us both a search now what drug is you movin’?”
d-mn man, i want these niggas dead
put these arms to his head, he be mr. potato head
a nigga been fed, but never fuck with the feds
we k!llin’ everything, i hope you niggas prepared
on a lighter note, niggas still coming with the fire, though
burnin’ up the trees getting higher than mariah notes
mink coat k!lla’ with the drug deala’
sum it all up, fuck a fuck nigga
jenkins
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