| Uh, bitch I’m on a paper chase
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| Blade underneath the bait
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| Shut up bitch and eat the cake
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| My little niggas squeeze the 'K
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| I don’t like the way the Yeezy’s 350's fit me
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| I know G’s in Mississippi, bitches sippin' with me
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| Paint the sky with brain matter
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| Whip the foreign like a slave master
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| The Wraith way faster, haters throwing shade at you
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| Bad hoes, tanning on the patio
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| I go pistachio for the dough and the flashy clothes
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| I fly like a Harlem nigga, I need all them figures
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| You know the guy to call a nigga if I got a problem with you
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| Give me two feet, these niggas too sweet
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| I’m with my bitch at the boutiques
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| Every week cos she a shoe freak
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| Yeah, I break bread while my niggas shake feds
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| My iced up braclet, they washed up like K. Fed
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| Hasta luego, was jealous cos Drake was fucking with J. Lo
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| OG Bobby J put the barrel in the potato
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| I’m not from a era with no motherfucking clowns
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| No I come from a era where you had to hold it down
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| And if you couldn’t spit it when you did it then the realest wouldn’t let you
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| come around, let you come around
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| No I’m not with them weirdo rapper that rock them gowns
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| And all that fuck shit that misrepresent the town
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| I’m from that Cuban link chain and solid gold fangs
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| You know it when you hear the sound (Hey, hey)
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| I’m tryna fuck a pop star before I’m 40
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| Getting money like I’m
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| Only women at every orgy these whores adore me
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| Pouring 40's for all my niggas in the dirt
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| Bitches sniff a ball of white I told her stick that in your purse
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| spoiled with luxury gifts, fuck with me bitch
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| Keep on sucking this dick, you get a luxury six (SIKE)
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| They suffered in the Reagan era, it was blatant terror
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| Camouflaged hoodies out in Cuba like I’m Che Guevara
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| I’m just a southern nigga with a Queens flow
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| Vintage supreme coats, can’t talk if your team broke, listen
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| Niggas that prey on him I pray for them
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| Metal to your cranium I’m sailing the Mediterranean
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| Bumping old money like old Jews
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| Never did shit for me so bitch I don’t owe you
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| Ay listen, razor in my mouth like Pac on the court
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| My nigga just popped out the court
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| So now we poppin the court
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| I’m not from a era with no motherfucking clowns
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| No I come from a era where you had to hold it down
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| And if you couldn’t spit it when you did it then the realest wouldn’t let you
|
| come around, let you come around
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| No I’m not with them weirdo rapper that rock them gowns
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| And all that fuck shit that misrepresent the town
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| I’m from that Cuban link chain and solid gold fangs
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| You know it when you hear the sound (Hey, hey) |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song The Era , by - Jarren Benton. Song from the album The Mink Coat Killa (The Lost 4), in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп