Roc Marciano - It's A Crime lyrics

I got my eyes on you
Pies are ordered, lines are snorted
Eyes watered got source wit 5's and the
Quarters hittin ya'll corners
Risin' on 'em like high waters
My supporters is side call 'em
Hold, steady eye ballin
Coke wit the Arm & Hammer
Near the pot boiling colt 45, 9 Taurus
Cops is on us, niggas out kickin' up top soil
Two Glocks on 'em, we're now warrin'
Five Warrens, ride foreign, car soarin'
My performance, we steal em'
Y'all brought em'
See the seal and start peeling like an orange
My appearance is not syrup
You starin', while I'm steering the McLaren
Like hard castle and Mccormicks
You prolly corded, if not recorded
My eyes soarin' like Dionne Warwick
You lie dormant
Tell the doorman let the whores in for us
Young Cummares like Don Pores
Ar de pora, hoes offer to drink my urine
It's 'cern that I'm stirrin'
The fur got ya bitch kitten purrin'
It's like I'm pimpin' and servin'
Once the dicks inserted
She turned to a whole different person
Dig in purses, image worship
That's like our church is
You can tell I'm a pimp by how my shirt fit

I’m blowing i’m wearin rose gold
Chromie out the coat pokin
Keep it open like the zipper broken
Sit low up in the nickel loaded
Wit' da pistol loaded
Doin' crime all the time
Doin crime all the time
Doin crime all the time

Clutchin' the tech, bustin ya head
Know when you're fuckin' wit' me
Your fuckin' wit da best
Cuttin' ya neck, blood on the deck
Just give a hunned percent
Brother shouldn't expect nuttin' less
Gun is kept under the sweats
When I'm done stuffin' ya chest
Nothin' is left
Ya underdressed, run to the nest
Cover ya breasts
Mumblin, stressed, under ya breath
Money to get, 20's and 10's
Luxury benz, buttery timbs wit' da vest
Skully truthfully I'mma bully
My ex said I was a
Mess yet very tastefully dressed
If I must say so myself
It's like I'm layin wealth
Bathin in silk gator on hat, shoes
And the belt
What else? Food in the velt what else?
Food in the stare you chewed like a meal
Eludin the ville, removed out the will
2 is Cassille, the mood is Brazil
Shootin' to kill, you dudes hit da grill
Niggas is food for real troops, still
In the ville, I'm in a deville, in the field
You pushin' up daffodils
Laughin' still i'm blowin
I'm wearin rose gold, chromey out the coat
Pokin'

I’m blowing i’m wearin rose gold
Chromie out the coat pokin
Keep it open like the zipper broken
Sit low up in the nickel loaded
Wit' da pistol loaded
Doin' crime all the time
Doin crime all the time
Doin crime all the time

Uh, straight G shit
Shout out to my physical bliss