Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Black Rob , by - Jarren Benton. Release date: 24.09.2020
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Black Rob |
| Woah |
| Benton, Black Rob |
| Woah, yeah |
| Yeah (Kill the Coyote), uh |
| 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, bitch, I’m Bobby Seales |
| Your melanin’ll get your brains blown on your dashboard |
| Bitch, that’s why we kneel |
| Government, guns, and God |
| She just fucked 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 never know if they gon roll up and spray |
| The game cold, |
| They went for hell 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 |
| Niggas turned to rats that used move out the base |
| Shit got popping when I flew out the A |
| Never gave a fuck about what you got to say |
| Nigga, play the back or move the fuck out the way |
| 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 fuck all you niggas, 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 niggas 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 fuck all you niggas, ayy, pardon my French, we get to it like— |
| Wanna meet your maker? |
| I can make that shit formal |
| No church inside the wild, ayy, fuck all the morals |
| My niggas bakin' pies, and that’s no DiGiorno |
| The mink coat killer, bitch, I’m not normal |
| I’m Leatherface, spray the Drac' out the Wraith |
| scrape his brain off the drapes |
| Point blank nature, peeled off, escaped |
| Bunch of fuck niggas, oh, I feel out of place |
| Been socially distant, bitch, way before COVID |
| I’m weary of people, don’t know niggas motives |
| Been killin' shit for years and you niggas know it |
| Don’t let me die before you give me my roses |
| Like my pussy 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, niggas 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 niggas 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 |
| 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 fuck all you niggas, 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 niggas 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 fuck all you niggas, ayy, pardon my French, we get to it like |
| Woah |