Roc Marciano - Bruh Man lyrics
[Roc Marciano - Bruh Man lyrics]
Crash Beamers, get my slacks out the cleaners
My queen don’t even speak English
Watches on arms, rings on fingers
Notes played like Coltrane and Mingus
If you can’t play the game, wing it
Remember lead singers need, wing men
Smooth as Luther Ingram
Ordained, shoe game strained
Eddie Kane’s pain
Heavy chain, sex, cocaine, a fresh chest pain
Dress plain, clever, White Plains
My life’s changed
Polite ways, nice waves, white slaves
My Nikes is like the ice age, Ice Capades
I rock the Issac Hayes shades, it was a phase
The legacy
The flesh of an emcee is a delicacy
I delicately squeeze shots from the celibacy
I’m like Denzel in Pelican Brief
The Porsche is yellow like American cheese
(please) my taste in women’s like Sade
We left the soiree
The Jaguar’s gray, the caviar’s great
Swipe the black card
46 come with the crash bar
The seats is white like Terry Bradshaw
It’s a tough business
I'm duckin’ the sentence
Hustlers, sinners, crushin’ the fiddish
A touch of spinach, bruh man, nigga chillin
Nigga chillin’ bruh man, nigga chillin’
It’s a tough business
I'm duckin’ the sentence
Hustlers, sinners, crushin’ the fiddish
A touch of spinach, bruh man, nigga chillin
Nigga chillin’ bruh man, nigga chillin’
Water whippin’ work – whip the furt (merk)
Twist purp, hit ‘em where it hurt
$800 dollar shirt, bitches flirt
I kick up dirt
Shit, Bert, Benzes with the skirt
Rubber get burnt duckin’ 5-0, whoa, Tae Bo
Eyes low, keep the 45 by the thigh bone
Chanel socks, Glocks, tip the bellhop
Checks is in the mailbox
To think we used to sell rocks
Flex the gators with the petrified eye
Accessorize, neck ties, cuff links
Rough minks just think
I can knock your buzzard just with one blink
‘Cause it ain’t nothin’ sweet, buckin’ heat
Hookers rub feet
Hoes we never cuff ‘em, let ‘em run free
The clothes? Shit is custom - we run things
Things don’t run we crocodiled down, Dundee
Yo, it’s a done D
Hoes often tell me I got dumb Gs
It’s a tough business
I'm duckin’ the sentence
Hustlers, sinners, crushin’ the fiddish
A touch of spinach, bruh man, nigga chillin
Nigga chillin’ bruh man, nigga chillin’
It’s a tough business
I'm duckin’ the sentence
Hustlers, sinners, crushin’ the fiddish
A touch of spinach, bruh man, nigga chillin
Nigga chillin’ bruh man, nigga chillin’
My queen don’t even speak English
Watches on arms, rings on fingers
Notes played like Coltrane and Mingus
If you can’t play the game, wing it
Remember lead singers need, wing men
Smooth as Luther Ingram
Ordained, shoe game strained
Eddie Kane’s pain
Heavy chain, sex, cocaine, a fresh chest pain
Dress plain, clever, White Plains
My life’s changed
Polite ways, nice waves, white slaves
My Nikes is like the ice age, Ice Capades
I rock the Issac Hayes shades, it was a phase
The legacy
The flesh of an emcee is a delicacy
I delicately squeeze shots from the celibacy
I’m like Denzel in Pelican Brief
The Porsche is yellow like American cheese
(please) my taste in women’s like Sade
We left the soiree
The Jaguar’s gray, the caviar’s great
Swipe the black card
46 come with the crash bar
The seats is white like Terry Bradshaw
It’s a tough business
I'm duckin’ the sentence
Hustlers, sinners, crushin’ the fiddish
A touch of spinach, bruh man, nigga chillin
Nigga chillin’ bruh man, nigga chillin’
It’s a tough business
I'm duckin’ the sentence
Hustlers, sinners, crushin’ the fiddish
A touch of spinach, bruh man, nigga chillin
Nigga chillin’ bruh man, nigga chillin’
Water whippin’ work – whip the furt (merk)
Twist purp, hit ‘em where it hurt
$800 dollar shirt, bitches flirt
I kick up dirt
Shit, Bert, Benzes with the skirt
Rubber get burnt duckin’ 5-0, whoa, Tae Bo
Eyes low, keep the 45 by the thigh bone
Chanel socks, Glocks, tip the bellhop
Checks is in the mailbox
To think we used to sell rocks
Flex the gators with the petrified eye
Accessorize, neck ties, cuff links
Rough minks just think
I can knock your buzzard just with one blink
‘Cause it ain’t nothin’ sweet, buckin’ heat
Hookers rub feet
Hoes we never cuff ‘em, let ‘em run free
The clothes? Shit is custom - we run things
Things don’t run we crocodiled down, Dundee
Yo, it’s a done D
Hoes often tell me I got dumb Gs
It’s a tough business
I'm duckin’ the sentence
Hustlers, sinners, crushin’ the fiddish
A touch of spinach, bruh man, nigga chillin
Nigga chillin’ bruh man, nigga chillin’
It’s a tough business
I'm duckin’ the sentence
Hustlers, sinners, crushin’ the fiddish
A touch of spinach, bruh man, nigga chillin
Nigga chillin’ bruh man, nigga chillin’