Roc Marciano, Action Bronson, Meyhem Lauren - Velvet Cape lyrics

Light my blunt, you fucking whore
Yeah, that's what the fuck I'm talking about
Nigga's got game, it's a muthafucking shame
Make you want to grab the pump shotty and aim
One in the brain, uh yeah, one in the brain
Check it, yeah, uhh
Nigga's got game, it's a muthafucking shame
Grab the pump shotty and aim

When you see me with that
Mask, it ain't for hockey, black
Used to play the lobby with crack
Wally's is black pontiac's quality rap
Tapping punani from the back off the Yak
My bitch is built like a yak
My kick's is a rack open your chicken wrap
Wings on the pigeon flap
Still rock fisherman hats with the slacks
You're listening to facts, nothing false
My heart won't defrost
Send shots back and forth
Serve soft, ho circle us all
Sipped in velour kiss the gift horse
(muah) , a eighth off the bricks chipped off
(break 'em off) rose gold links from Panama
Tan lines from camel rides
Smooth like the Phantom glides
Fly eyewear, diamonds is rare
Fresh out of Zaire
I'm on a higher tier, dry your tear
Pop guns by the pair, one in the trunk
Call that a spare
Lift you in the air, Ligaments tear yeah

My mind is different though
Just lift your chain over your neck
Don't make it difficult
These choices I make, no need for explanation
Exceeding expectations
I'm like a surgeon deal with daily operations
Of the life we live
Green drugs rolled up in paper
A very subtle Meyer lemon sauce
Sicilian capers moroccan razors
Cause life is all about a balance
Good come with the bad
The plain comes with the palette
It could get violent
Send your body to the stylist i stand alone
You cats be wildin' like I'm Irish
Protection from the virus, "Magic" J
Homies pass away
I'm living life until that tragic day
Dip in 635, CSI, Gil Grissom eyes
We only smoke it if it's crystallized
The drugs are hidden by a pigeon
In her tit's and thighs
My pockets never minimize
Whipping a cinnamon ride

This crime saga rap
Twist the Goldschläger cap
Waves under my stocking cap, Queens shit
We started that
East Coast artifact, never artificial
Fly lecture architecture
Box cutters will kiss you
Shotgun shells will massage you
Type of affection that'll make
Your friends dodge you
It's all love though, even in times of war
I'll beat the pussy up, and make vaginas raw
Wait a designer whore
They come back like china raw
Fly, fuck a tie
Only suit I'm rocking is velour
Got Benz money, but look better in a Cadillac
Timepieces, rhyme, pieces
Victim of my habitat divine status
I'm already known for having that
Dead a tan linguine
Nowadays because I rather black
And fuck marinara, I like my gravy hotter
We keeps it spicy so I order it arrabiata