Jarren Benton, POUNDZ - Judge Mathis lyrics

Through the lights, cameras, the action
Glammers, glitters, and gold
So much money that my paper won't fold
Shooting game at these hoes
Like I’m bishop, magic, done one
Out in Hong Kong, eating stuffed wontons
With this dumb blonde
East side, that’s where I come from
Doctor Lecter, bitch
I move effortless, Actavis in my beverage
(bitch) i murder beats like a terrorist
Get a therapist
This mac’ll make a pussy nigga do a pirouette
Standing on top of pyramids
Watching these snakes slither quick
My bitch could make her pussy
Toke a couple cigarettes
I bet I be more than nigga rich
Gun powder in my pit's, kibbles and bit's
The champagne fizzles a bit
Mister Benton, I’m invisible bitch
Keep an icepick to chisel a prick
She discovered my discography
She listens to Rittz
I gave her a couple hit's and
Now she’s licking my dick
Yeah, smooth as a gator on a block of ice
Tough guys get chop chopped
With a pocket knife
I’m on the grind tryna get
These fucking pockets right
Helicopters hover the block at night
Crack head, stuck to Lucifer’s noose
Another warm Saturday
I take the roof off the coupe
I’m drinking again
I guess I mixed the juice and the Goose
I cum in your bitch’s hair
She say she use it as mousse
Watching Judge Mathis
Flicking ashes on these nigga’s fabric
Riding with a dime piece
In a vintage Maverick
I just copped a time machine
And a new Bugatti
Just cause they dress like faggots
They ain’t Illuminati

Bitch, yea
Ya'll pussy ass niggas sleeping on the god
Man you know what I'm saying?
When a nigga start goddamn shinning, do don't
Act like you know me then, nigga
You know what I'm saying? Go put your
God damn shoes in the freezer, bitch
'Cos you walking on motherfucking thin ice
Nigga jarren Benton, ya'll niggas ain't
Fucking with the kid, bitch
(Yea) Let's go

A drug dealer’s dream, cup filled with lean
Stuffed to the seams
Green, power time, all I see is dollar signs
You get out of line
Take you out your olive nines
Fuck, ocean view in the hands
Tell the bitch cook something
Throw some food in the pan
Then I send her home with
The scent of my dick i’m a beast, I’m a dog
Get the vet when I’m sick
Shit, I’m too fat to fit in the Panamera
Strappers lit, these rappers bitching
They ran in terror from the attic era
‘matic in the hammer bearer smash your
Rub my baby batter in like Aloe Vera
Bet she told you she ain’t like fat guys
'Till I got her that high
Plug like a flash drive
Crushed in a cab ride, fuck, let the cash fly
King shit, getting sucked, eating Pad Thai
Murder for the chips again
Burn 'em for the dividends
Tailor made ostrich
Birkin for my women friends
Uh, I got monetary obsessions
Got to carry a weapon
They plot on my very essence
Uh, I’m from the bottom and I’m glad we are
You know straight Honda Civics, no caddy cars
I turned a stogey to a grand daddy 'gar
And now it’s all about the
Xanny bars and caviar
Rappers talk suspicious
Like they bought some viscous
Boy how you the weight
Man? You washing dishes
How many rappers really get it
'fore they get in
My yellow gold Cuban make these
Rappers tuck they shit in bitch!