Designer Belts lyrics

[Intro]
Yeah
Ill n*gga, 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, f*ck 'em
Lord Benton I'm moving expensive linens
f*ck 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 n*gga iller than me, I'll wait
They ain't f*cking with the God, how, Sway?
f*ck these labels I bet I leave with my masters
Black lives never mattered as long as I'm eating rappers
Rest in p*ssed, I never honor you chumps
These n*ggas swagger jackin, you chumps Melania Trump
Click, click, blaow
Put you n*ggas 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 n*gga died, I ain't been the same
f*ck the skitzo, pus*y n*gga, come feel this pain
I got family in Flint, Michigan
These motherf*ckers 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 n*gga 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 n*ggas
[Bridge: Coach]
*Right hand over my strap. My country 'tis of thee, sweet land of liberty*

[Verse 2: Elz Jenkins]
Complain about bullsh*t while n*ggas do fed time
Some n*ggas 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 n*gga 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 n*gga 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 f*ck is you doing?"
"Save us both a search now what drug is you movin'?"
Damn man, I want these n*ggas dead
Put these arms to his head, he be Mr. Potato head
A n*gga been fed, but never f*ck with the feds
We killin' everything, I hope you n*ggas prepared
On a lighter note, n*ggas 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, f*ck a f*ck n*gga
Jenkins