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blood in the pit - jarren benton lyrics

[jarren benton]
d*mn, what the f*ck these n*ggas smiling ’bout
b*tches smell that money, they run to you till you’re down and out
suicidal thoughts, please god don’t let me drown in doubt
b*tch go through the math and you realize that you can’t count him out

yeah
they want you die
so they cannot box with god’s apostle
bullets they bite like nosferatu
sh*t’ll get hostile, gruesome, awful
pay with your life
b*tch it’s gonna cost you
f*ck all of the internet beef
i don’t argue
n*ggas’ll fall through
pull up and off you
brrrttttt ahhhhhh

show me love in it b
jumping out the grit, brush the mud off my fit
wiping off the prints ‘cuz the glove did not fit
they gon’ march the diss and draw blood in the pit

yeah
what the f*ck these n*ggas smiling ’bout
b*tches smell that money, they run to you till you’re down and out
suicidal thoughts, please god don’t let me drown in doubt
b*tch go through the math and you realize that you can’t count him out
yeah
show me love in it b
jumping out the grit, brush the mud off my fit
wiping off the prints ‘cuz the glove did not fit
they gon’ march the diss and draw blood in the pit

[king iso, jarren benton]
like a flowbotomist hopped in the marsh it gets obvious (doesn’t it b*tch)
oj and vodka mix while i stay whippin’ a bronco and (f*ckin this b*tch)
they gon’ be begging for mercy like yayo and banks and they (?)
blood i get hands on, f*ck a tampon it’ll go (up in this b*tch)
whoa there’s blood in the pit
now i run like i grew up with dozens of pitts
i’m a dog i don’t muzzle the bl!ck
and deodorant wasn’t the stick i tucked up under my pits
what i want [?] with a ten degree up in this b*tch
ain’t no secret i keep it, you don’t gotta ask me
i’ll keep it a buck with you, they gonna be leaving dubs under your pics
whoa, poppin’ out with this cannon at my baby mamma house as i been wiling out
crew stepping with the devil imma let the hammer dance like slaughterhouse
ay homie don’t sneak diss, be a man tell me who you talking bout
slide through to your next show with this drake like i’m (smiley mouth?)
like brrrrrttttttt

yeah
what the f*ck you n*ggas smiling ’bout
b*tches smell that money, they run to you till you’re down and out
suicidal thoughts, please god don’t let me drown in doubt
b*tch go through the math and you realize that you can’t count him out
yeah
show me love in it b
jumping out the grit, brush the mud off my fit
wiping off the prints ‘cuz the glove did not fit
they gon’ march the diss and draw blood in the pit

- jarren benton lyrics

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