Nicholas Craven, Roc Marciano - Wolfing Down lyrics

Yeah, uh my Haitian niggas'll chop your shit
My lady chocolate, thick
She like Taral Hicks
The seats in the 6 resemble trail mix
The torch is in the pail like a welder's kit
The hitter sent the whip in a tailspin
The tires made the V-12 skid
I'm a big kid, I feel like I'm 12 again
The crib come with Benson and Mr belvedere
I'm cooking 'caine in the kitchen
We selling hella squares
I might sell my Roc-A-Fella shares
And take my bands elsewhere
The pinky ring a mere 12 grand (It's nothing)
I had a thing for Pam Grier (yeah)
Wood paneling on the Wagoneer
The stairway cashmere exotic cat hair
Don't let my jacket scratch your hand
I had my mans tap dance on the grams
Break the brick in half, Jackie Chan
Shit was khaki tan
I had twenty racks in my Balen' track pants
A small cash advance to hit some blue magic
You see the package stamp
Crack the Dutch Master to wrap the plants
Scrap your plans, I'm back to El Capitan
Been to hell and back, I'm just a black man
Land the
The Taliban brand, but not from Pakistan
What's crackin' fam?
My bitch pulled up with the ratchet
On her lap and said
Am I the only one traveling this way?
Let's get the fuck outta here, baby
Word up, know this that Tom Hanks Big shit
Nigga I feel like
Am I the only one traveling this way?
Dancin' on the piano with this one, nigga
Am I the only one traveling this way?
Am I the only one traveling this way?