Lyrics Slow Motion Intro - Jarren Benton, DJ Hoppa

Slow Motion Intro

Yah, they be like, «Jarren
Where the fuck you’ve been, dawg?»
I’m back nigga, K-K-Kato on the track, bitch
Slow Motion, this is Volume 2
A pussy nigga what we calling you
My pockets right, let’s hit a mall or two
Ayy me and flick will drink up all the goose
The bitches show love to all the crew
I rap to get dough, that’s all I do
Aye middle finger up to all of you!
Aye Jarren what happened to Funk Volume?
Holy Christ Jesus Cliff Huxtable
Drunk enough a fat bitch is fuckable
Flashy nigga all my sneakers colorful
Nigga shooting outta BMW
Still stepping out in my Adidas
1800 in my margarita
She gon' let me give her throat a fetus
Imma go to sleep and she gon' roll the reefer
Told you I’m not a human nigga
They watchin us just like the Truman niggas
Brass knuckles I would ruin niggas
I snapped the neck of fucking two gorillas
All this pussy feeling too familiar
Oh that’s right, that’s Kato’s mom
Ya’ll just talking, ya’ll don’t spray those guns
I eat a rapper like a bagel bun
These bitches thinking imma ice they wrist
Cause I love they ass and really like they tits
Who gased these bitches like they nitrous
Oxide, one night the bitch
The future’s here, we got the microchips
Hey really soon I might strike it rich
Hey life’s a bitch
And her sister’s a cunt
And any second bitch I might just flip
All this liquor got me feeling woozy
She got lick my dick and fucking hoack a loogie
I’ll pull the knife and fucking drop the toolie
Illess nigga of the top loose-leaf
Fuck cancer, send a prayer to Boosie
Groupies let me get that oochie koochie
I kill a bitch if my dick gets cooties
A group of moolies bout to spray the uzi!
Fuck you Kato
All of you talking shit man
Appreciate y’all staying patient
Slow Motion 2!
Yeah
Now I bought a ferragamo belt
I love the way marijuana smell
These dirty bitches let you run a train
I call that lil bitch the monorail
Niggas can’t duck 100 shells
This that dope that don’t sit on a scale
If you niggas really whip the colt
Put 100k up for the bail
Never used a fucking ghost writer
Every fucking word I wrote is fire
You ain’t hotter than a broke lighter
Tell that bitch to ride it like a low-rider
In this bitch I’m figting vices nigga
Pray for Paris fighting ISIS niggas
It ain’t even safe up in a church
I might stick a knife in niggas
Used to sip a little syrup
But niggas keep turning up dead
They like you niggas is junkies
They agenda go over your head
Yeah
Love it when niggas just dancing in dumb
Question the world keep your hand on your gun
This is that brand new Slow Motion nigga
Volume 2 signing out, I am done