Jarren Benton - It Ain't Safe lyrics

[Verse 1: Jarren Benton] Jarren is the type that murders a mic Then after the show get coked up, go home, murder his wife Lee do you rest on a red eye flight One with Jheri Curls and a beard lay low for 38 nights Geez I'm buggin' Word to my cousin Walk holding my wood like Hacksaw Jim Duggan Searching for a young b**h to give a good lovin' Love, f**, and stay away from who*es who hate dick s**in' Retreat back in the street with plenty of heat Off of the chain like Kunta Kinte's feet Gave dirty piss to my PO Now I'm back in the joint Jackin' punks for phone time like Miss Cleo Keep crack stuffed in a big bag of Cheetos Only one of me goes that's the chrome Desert Eagle Blow! All I need in this life is sin Methamphetamines, paper, and pen Oops I did it again Severed your skull and spilled blood on my Tims Call me Tarzan, this n***a's going out on a limb Get it? Vote for Jarren, A-Town's amba**ador f** rims, b**h, my car has a flux capacitor The most eligible bachelor Caveman, see a b**h I want and tackle her Rick James, beat a b**h up and shackle her Undisputed champ, stomp a hole in the challenger [Verse 2: Ness Lee] Listen To get rid of Ness you'll probably need to find a cure for hustle When I grind it's like you flunked the piss test You're in trouble The flow is like there's strings attached to it Since hip hop's dead, well I'm bringing back music My CD is that foolish It evokes the emotions that make folks on Jerry Springer act stupid I swing a bat ruthless And beat a cat clueless And reenact the featured act to it For being wack I'll leave your a** toothless The rhino's here I'm dancing like Michael Jackson in rhinestone gear Your man used to hold weight, well lipo's here Holding a 9 and throwing pine cone shells And don't think that your little threats scare me Cause I know fear And I no fear it's my show Yeah I'm ice cold Like Dolemite The lion's share of y'all should name your CDs Jimmy crack corn cause I don't care You eyeing fierce with iron But irony here Is I know queer is behind those stares Not enough iron in your diet hear? I am psycho, weird I might chase you while you climb those stairs And if I can't cut you dawg, I might throw chairs A cyclone in a rifle barrel, they like no And y'all slow, get your typos cleared Even your blood type is type 0, shea A'ight, gone