In seclusion I pin up piff
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In the land cruiser
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Tan like I been to cuba
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Keys is white like sand in aruba
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Exude confidence
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From my view of the metropolis
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I fed flakes to my tropical fish
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Pull the top off the six
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Like Badu wig
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I¡¯m no push over
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I push a Rover
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You push a Puma like a foot sodier
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I put dog like I push cola
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And cock the pistola
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Hands inside the isotoners
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Spend the night with a dice roller
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You pray your ice gets returned
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To its rightful owner
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Rifles in the trunk of the caddy
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We dump you in the swamps
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Somewhere down in miami
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My brush stroke the canvas
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You caught in a gambit
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And pimp slapped open handed
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I demanded
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For the operation to be expanded
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Be a standard
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Gee our ran was enchanted
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Tool belt wearing I¡¯m a mechanic
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Bad bitch swinging in the hammock
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I took a dip in the Atlantic
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And bit the salmon
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Its slamming
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Come on hit me
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I sit up in the four fifty
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Shifty
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This is raw nigga history
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A slick pimp might resort to trickery
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Bitches dig me
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Your money fall short like a pygmy
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Waves flow like the Mississippi
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Guns longer than the wig on a hippy
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On the hip keep the blicky
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Petite wiz opposite of Missy
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Depict me as super witty
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My shank might remove her titty
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I jumped off the heel of my achilles
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This is light work to me
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Turn a knife if your kidney
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I pray Allah might forgive me
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Now who could see me
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Musically I¡¯m with the kundalini
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I easily scoop your Nefertiti
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I bump the CD
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In the green Lamborghini
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Demonstrator
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In linen and gator
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Slick tongue like a litigator
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Facilitator
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Decision maker
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My inner layers
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Is the himalayas
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Bridget is impressed by the days
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Yellow gold and terry cloth robes
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The Wardrobe
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That made hoes come in droves
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With less clothes and the flesh exposed
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In a Lexus we drove through infested roads
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Pellets are thrown into flesh and bone
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Your name get carved into headstones slow
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Gangster cadance
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My space is shaded
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The heat is nickel plated
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Assets is liquidated
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What I¡¯m conveying
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Isn¡¯t easily articulated
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Roll solo
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Like the Marcsberg photo
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Earth from Acapulco
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We hit that
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Flat screen cinemax promo
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Benz logo
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Black RLX polo
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Your tongues knotted up like soto
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But on the low tho
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Thread Count
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Roc Marciano |