Lyrics Tom Ford Socks - Benny the Butcher, Westside Gunn, Conway

Tom Ford Socks - Benny the Butcher, Westside Gunn, Conway
Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Tom Ford Socks, artist - Benny the Butcher. Album song My First Brick, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 07.10.2016
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Black Soprano Family
Song language: English

Tom Ford Socks

Got an 8th in my Tom Ford Socks
I don’t wanna talk, you gettin' shot
I’m the nigga in my city
'Chine gun on my left titty
Feds still tryna get me
Tom brown seats in the Black Bentley
I can make a million in my sleep
Hangin out the roof with the street sweep
See how them Griselda boys manouevred it
Smell like waxin' sour walkin out of Peter Luger
Streets consumed us, little homie loved to grip his Ruger
He 17, but he been a shooter like Dennis Schröder
Fuck nigga, look at you boy, you been a loser
You still a little nigga, still a nigga junior
Go and get the hardest nigga, that nigga getting chewed up
Lyrically I’m a Bugatti, he a MINI Cooper
2K to tie a nigga shoe up, bitch thinking I’m a scooper
My Benz in the driveway, I sent the Uber
Griselda jersey, public school
Name rings a few bells, they know me in a few jails
Niggas threw shots but couldn’t shoot well
They shot and missed, I pop the my shooters move well
Without the ball, catch and shoot
Draw, played, and execute, full court pressure nigga
S.E.
forever nigga
Got an 8th in my Tom Ford Socks
I don’t wanna talk, you gettin' shot
I’m the nigga in my city
'Chine gun on my left titty
Feds still tryna get me
Tom brown seats in the Black Bentley
I can make a million in my sleep
Hangin out the roof with the street sweep
I seen niggas break the code and never felt correct
I watched niggas make a fortune, dudes I helped connect
They say it’s two ways out the game, bullets melt your flesh
Or catch a sentence and they change you like you Malcolm X
I slide through, my toasts sparking on a close target
We put an address on the beef like a post office
I’m tryna sell this last half o' brick then go corporate
I got killers with me pulling up with blow torches
Would you feed a grown men or expect him to hunt?
They took the money out the hood, but never invested in us
I got two kids, I never neglected 'em once
I hope the democrats steal the election from Trump
You got to bath in holy water, let it touch your face
The bottom of her shoes red like she crushing grapes
I turn the scale on and then I cut the tape
Ken Griffey Jr., I was touching base
Got an 8th in my Tom Ford Socks
I don’t wanna talk, you gettin' shot
I’m the nigga in my city
'Chine gun on my left titty
Feds still tryna get me
Tom brown seats in the Black Bentley
I can make a million in my sleep
Hangin out the roof with the street sweep

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Artist lyrics: Benny the Butcher
Artist lyrics: Westside Gunn
Artist lyrics: Conway