Keisha Plum - Vera Boys lyrics

[Intro: Westside Gunn] The f** yo? I don't even know why, I don't even know I'm f**in' this ill my n***a, I just am SE Gang [Verse 1: Westside Gunn] Yo, everyday I pray to J Dilla It's a full time job not spray a n***a All this dope ain't gon' sell itself Gut shot made his stomach melt Pulled off in an Audi wagon Did a U-ey came back with fully automatics Mad Max with the black MAC, left his body parts in a trash bag Up in Visits talkin' past gla** Now it's buyin' dinners eatin' crab legs Everything on me vintage, pourin' champagnes over scale Sly, we did it At Venedig's on tour, so many guns on me you would think it's war Not at all, I'm just paranoid Pair of jumpers, Vera Wang, we them Vera boys Close my eyes I seen pies, inhaled I smelled crime Kept my ears open, I was focused Thirty AK-6 shells will flip your Lotus These n***as bogus, they like three-quarters soda Lyrically I'm off the boat with it Studded Loubout' duffle with stupid coke in it a**holes with gas stoves, n***a you reap what you sow Lake [?], I'm out on [?] I'm the dopest, I don't give a f** who you are I don't give a f** who you are [Verse 2: Keisha Plum] Like Adolf, I got no remorse Slice your baby moms with a dirty box cutter The real hood forever Finesse right and skin tight Moshino and Fendi leathers Poetic gun flow, I'm Nikki Giovanni with the Hublot Blood stains on my six inch Stilettos Steppin' on your throat, worse than Hitler doing lines of coke Burnin' some purple OG, I'm Illmatic times three Sick destiny, visualize a hustler's complexity Murderous tendencies, Balenciaga bag full of blue face Benji's Keisha Plum, Westside Gunn, 716 infamy