Lyrics Westside Gunn – BLVK TAR
Text:
Sean Price:
P!
God is the greatest, we could never be friends
The Lord is my shepherd, my vest is sheep skin
Cannon bark, hammer spark, open casket
Bastard dressed like Shannon Sharpe, uh
P hardly shoot, I’m well loved, I tell thugs to do things for loot
Boss in the hood, don’t get lost in the hood
Break North, my niggas take off with your goods
Heat in your space, hot shot seeking a place to rest at
Sket clap and scrap meat off your face
A quarter ounce of shake in the ‘Ville get you killed
Grilled as porterhouse steak
Black nigga with the Eagle evil
Jack Tripper at the Regal Beagle
The 9 convince you
To take off your Nikes and like cement shoes
Bastard dressed like Shannon Sharpe, uh
P hardly shoot, I’m well loved, I tell thugs to do things for loot
Boss in the hood, don’t get lost in the hood
Break North, my niggas take off with your goods
Heat in your space, hot shot seeking a place to rest at
Sket clap and scrap meat off your face
A quarter ounce of shake in the ‘Ville get you killed
Grilled as porterhouse steak
Black nigga with the Eagle evil
Jack Tripper at the Regal Beagle
The 9 convince you
To take off your Nikes and like cement shoes
Westside Gunn:
Phenomenal whipping, we hopped in the Benzes
Let’s chop in the kitchen, go shopping at Lenox
Lord rocking some Moschino vintage we did it
The Izod gator on the waiter
Push the Cayenne’s in France
MAC-10 on me, who wanna dance?
Clip hangin’ down the Pucci pant leg
My shit is legendary, stylin’ majority
The.44 Bulldog belong in your mouth
Your shit get blown off
10 Deep rocking 10 Deep
Officially the flyest nigga I know is me
? peoples at the Eagle said he looking for Roberto
The Maybach was Merlot
Tommy Hill still had the steel on him
When Bishop shot Steel
My rich amilli? steal, I’ll
Tom Ford all black, I’m in a fuck nigga’ bushes
Thousand boxes of baking soda for the cooked goods
Yayo residue on my resume
Ayo Keke take these five bricks on Desiree
Wait up, soufflet’ing the yay straight up
Black Tar stars, papi on the call log
Sir Lord West
Legendary shit
The Maybach was Merlot
Tommy Hill still had the steel on him
When Bishop shot Steel
My rich amilli? steal, I’ll
Tom Ford all black, I’m in a fuck nigga’ bushes
Thousand boxes of baking soda for the cooked goods
Yayo residue on my resume
Ayo Keke take these five bricks on Desiree
Wait up, soufflet’ing the yay straight up
Black Tar stars, papi on the call log
Sir Lord West
Legendary shit
