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lirik lagu black rob – jarren benton

[intro]
woah
benton, black rob
woah, yeah
yeah (k!ll the coyote), uh

[verse 1]
black blood spill on cotton fields
dead slave, owners keep my pockets filled
whip the block and keep the glock concealed
grave digger, i got plots to fill
mama used to stress about them doctor bills
trap panther, b*tch, i’m bobby seales
your melanin’ll get your brains blown on your dashboard
b*tch, that’s why we kneel
government, guns, and god
she just f*cked the entourage
i’m adios, hey, baby, bon voyage
i’m flexin’ on ’em, [?]
i hang with the apes in the jungle
gotta load up the k
you nevеr know if they gon roll up and spray
the game cold, [?]
thеy went for h*ll and i have nowhere to stay
the god, benton, baby, you better pray
the devil working, we can’t lose our faith
i got trust issues, keep the tool by the waist
i’m boxing demons, they say [?]
n*ggas turned to rats that used move out the base
sh*t got popping when i flew out the a
never gave a f*ck about what you got to say
n*gga, play the back or move the f*ck out the way
[chorus]
woah, yeah
crème de la crème
may father forgive me for all of my sins
but i’m going in like i’m out for revenge, i might hit ’em like
woah, yeah, don’t mean to sound grim
i count on one hand who i’m callin’ my friends
say f*ck all you n*ggas, ayy, pardon my fren’, count the money like
woah, yeah
the crème de la crème
may father forgive me for all of my sins
i roll up on n*ggas and hop out the benz and i hit ’em like
woah, yeah, don’t mean to sound grim
i count on one hand who i’m callin’ my friends
say f*ck all you n*ggas, ayy, pardon my french, we get to it like—

[verse 2]
wanna meet your maker? i can make that sh*t formal
no church inside the wild, ayy, f*ck all the morals
my n*ggas bakin’ pies, and that’s no digiorno
the mink coat k!ller, b*tch, i’m not normal
i’m leatherface, spray the drac’ out the wraith
[?] scr*pe his brain off the drapes
point blank nature, peeled off, escaped
bunch of f*ck n*ggas, oh, i feel out of place
been socially distant, b*tch, way before covid
i’m weary of people, don’t know n*ggas motives
been k!llin’ sh*t for years and you n*ggas know it
don’t let me die before you give me my roses
like my p*ssy clean and my presidents dead, yeah
no mercy for rappers, i pull up and pop off your top just like pez, yeah
mouth full of gold, it’s that crack on the stove
back on the wall, n*ggas know i don’t fold
one day you here and the next day you ghost
i’m greedy, whatever, [?]
i stick to the code and i follow the oaths
i’m different from n*ggas while y’all do the most
they left me for dead, i was out in the cold
[?], got my foot on their throat, they like
[chorus]
woah, yeah
crème de la crème
may father forgive me for all of my sins
but i’m going in like i’m out for revenge, i might hit ’em like
woah, yeah, don’t mean to sound grim
i count on one hand who i’m callin’ my friends
say f*ck all you n*ggas, ayy, pardon my fren’, count the money like
woah, yeah
the crème de la crème
may father forgive me for all of my sins
i roll up on n*ggas and hop out the benz and i hit ’em like
woah, yeah, don’t mean to sound grim
i count on one hand who i’m callin’ my friends
say f*ck all you n*ggas, ayy, pardon my french, we get to it like

[outro]
woah

- jarren benton

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