Designer Belts - Jarren Benton, Coach, Elz Jenkins

Yeah

Ill nigga, tell a friend bitch

Money over bitches while the world still spin

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 bitch

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

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 bitch

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'?»

Damn 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 killin' 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 killa' with the drug deala'

Sum it all up, fuck a fuck nigga

Jenkins