Roc Marciano, KA, Knowledge The Pirate - Not Told lyrics

I’m in that all black boat
See how I be leaning like I’m on that dope
Certified grimey nigga, wore that coat
Knock your ass over like poor black folk
Bag up the coke like Quaker Oats take notes
Play the stove, lames are disposed
Tre-eight ohs bangin' your clothes
Train hoes the game is to be sold, not told

Learned life lessons, late night fighting
Leopards, Polo’d down like Tyson Beckford
Flow is nice, the blow is white like Robert
Redford, little homie this is just textbook
Flesh is cook
Bust my gun like them kids in Red Hook
Keep it jumping like Russel Westbrook
It can’t be better put
We live fast, got a lead foot
Push sevens out, in Meadowbrook
Ya mellon get whupped
Will find your skeleton in the hood


I sat and had a sip at the gentleman’s club
Intelligent writers, pockets got elephantitis
Come with choppers like helicopter pilots
I drive a five lopsided pop iron
Trying to make a hole for you like linemen
Designer trends is high end I’m disguised in
Cartiers is wired thin, keep my eyes hid
Take advice from wise men with ends
Rhymes is deep
You might want to dive in and swim
You feel the pain in the music
My ways are polluted big chain hang stupid
That’s how we do shit, chill nigga
You already know how we play, nigga

I’m in that all black boat
See how I be leaning like I’m on that dope
Certified grimey nigga, wore that coat
Knock your ass over like poor black folk
Bag up the coke like Quaker Oats take notes
Play the stove, lames are disposed
Tre-eight ohs bangin' your clothes
Train hoes the game is to be sold, not told

Before the night part this life start
Don’t be on at four in the morning
Get etch a sketched in that white chalk
It’s raining and storming
The water's quite dark
Kingpins, killers turn informants
Thinking they might walk
No playing, or pranking
Have you walking a plank
Now you food for them sharks in the tank
From a hood where we sharpen our shanks
Kingpins get stripped for their ranks
The watch and chain, plus the pinky ring
Come through customs with a couple things
Six fifty clean with the custom rims
M16 with a couple clips
Mossberg pumps with a pistol grip
Silencers, infrared, all official shit
A few Nick Cannons off of my pirate ship
Married to Mariah Carey as I hug the strip
Submariner Rolex wrappedaround her wrist
Blowing cannabis
As I navigate down One Two-Fifth
Water blue Mazi' straight off the dealership
We pour out liquor in remembrance


I’m in that all black boat
See how I be leaning like I’m on that dope
Certified grimey nigga, wore that coat
Knock your ass over like poor black folk
Bag up the coke like Quaker Oats take notes
Play the stove, lames are disposed
Tre-eight ohs bangin' your clothes
Train hoes the game is to be sold, not told

You ain’t have a clue
The niggas had to see and had to do
Just to have some wheat that they can chew
We need to make a stew
The need to feed, lead a fatal boom
In the streets knee deep major crew
They lie and deprive
It’s what they made us do
Engage in the trades and evades gauges blew
But don’t touch the custies, wave 'em through
Rugged in public, covered our neighbors too
Our haters grew, necessarily sinning
Glowing with confidence
Temporarily winning, knowing the consequence
Fuck man law, I’m speaking of the fire
Word to the sire
My fans poor, I’m preaching to the choir
We in the dirt, reaching with desire
That’s why we sling the work
Seeking for a buyer
Cook it up, keep it on the fryer
Pump enough base to make speakers burst
Then we can all retire