Go - Jarren Benton

Uh, bitch I’m on a paper chase

Blade underneath the bait

Shut up bitch and eat the cake

My little niggas squeeze the 'K

I don’t like the way the Yeezy’s 350's fit me

I know G’s in Mississippi, bitches sippin' with me

Paint the sky with brain matter

Whip the foreign like a slave master

The Wraith way faster, haters throwing shade at you

Bad hoes, tanning on the patio

I go pistachio for the dough and the flashy clothes

I fly like a Harlem nigga, I need all them figures

You know the guy to call a nigga if I got a problem with you

Give me two feet, these niggas too sweet

I’m with my bitch at the boutiques

Every week cos she a shoe freak

Yeah, I break bread while my niggas shake feds

My iced up braclet, they washed up like K. Fed

Hasta luego, was jealous cos Drake was fucking with J. Lo

OG Bobby J put the barrel in the potato

I’m not from a era with no motherfucking clowns

No I come from a era where you had to hold it down

And if you couldn’t spit it when you did it then the realest wouldn’t let you

come around, let you come around

No I’m not with them weirdo rapper that rock them gowns

And all that fuck shit that misrepresent the town

I’m from that Cuban link chain and solid gold fangs

You know it when you hear the sound (Hey, hey)

I’m tryna fuck a pop star before I’m 40

Getting money like I’m

Only women at every orgy these whores adore me

Pouring 40's for all my niggas in the dirt

Bitches sniff a ball of white I told her stick that in your purse

spoiled with luxury gifts, fuck with me bitch

Keep on sucking this dick, you get a luxury six (SIKE)

They suffered in the Reagan era, it was blatant terror

Camouflaged hoodies out in Cuba like I’m Che Guevara

I’m just a southern nigga with a Queens flow

Vintage supreme coats, can’t talk if your team broke, listen

Niggas that prey on him I pray for them

Metal to your cranium I’m sailing the Mediterranean

Bumping old money like old Jews

Never did shit for me so bitch I don’t owe you

Ay listen, razor in my mouth like Pac on the court

My nigga just popped out the court

So now we poppin the court

I’m not from a era with no motherfucking clowns

No I come from a era where you had to hold it down

And if you couldn’t spit it when you did it then the realest wouldn’t let you

come around, let you come around

No I’m not with them weirdo rapper that rock them gowns

And all that fuck shit that misrepresent the town

I’m from that Cuban link chain and solid gold fangs

You know it when you hear the sound (Hey, hey)