Westside Gunn, Roc Marciano - Ric Martel lyrics
[Westside Gunn, Roc Marciano - Ric Martel lyrics]
Grr, Ayo, George Condo's in the condo
I can cook coke with my eyes closed
The Beamer grill Ron English (Skrrt)
Whole brick for 28, look like we bleached it
Leather strings in the Tinkers
A wig rocking the weight
We shot him out the gate
The chopper got no breaks
Park inside the shake
Rose Vucheron with the pink face
Standing on the couch with the pink gates
The bitches love the neck drip
Clip and the TEC flip
(Grr) my shooter only sniff
The best shit (Grr)
Put the brains out for the extras
(Boom, boom, boom, boom, boom)
TEC wrapped in the Hermes handkerchief
Excuse a nigga excellence
Alright, nigga, fuck that
Kill his ass, nigga
Well, if you must know, bucko
(If you must know)
I bust the pump, slugs stuck in your stucco
Shells all in your home and humble abode
Uh oh, we all know opinions is like buttholes
(Waxed) on another note
I stay clean while the mud was thrown
Thought I was low, my cover was blown
(You say) like a note on the old trombone
Don't make me rub your nose
The funds I hold
I count so much dough up, my thumbs are swole
(Shit) stole the summers, drove road runners
Keep the TEC
Might heat one half of the Cocoa Brothers
(What up, Tek?)
My leather coat feel like cocoa butter (yeah)
This is culture, my folks was smoking butter
(Wow) the pole come with a muffler (Facts)
I send them hoes back to you broken
Roughed up
Pistol whipped your dog and broke the gun
Spoke in tongues just like I said too much
The buns was dark, shit ain't no bubblegum
They never seen us coming like a sucker punch
Uh, I got the game and the fiends
(Smoke 'em out)
These ain't Supreme, these sneakers 80 G's
Baby, please
(baby, please) please get off my dick, baby
I can cook coke with my eyes closed
The Beamer grill Ron English (Skrrt)
Whole brick for 28, look like we bleached it
Leather strings in the Tinkers
A wig rocking the weight
We shot him out the gate
The chopper got no breaks
Park inside the shake
Rose Vucheron with the pink face
Standing on the couch with the pink gates
The bitches love the neck drip
Clip and the TEC flip
(Grr) my shooter only sniff
The best shit (Grr)
Put the brains out for the extras
(Boom, boom, boom, boom, boom)
TEC wrapped in the Hermes handkerchief
Excuse a nigga excellence
Alright, nigga, fuck that
Kill his ass, nigga
Well, if you must know, bucko
(If you must know)
I bust the pump, slugs stuck in your stucco
Shells all in your home and humble abode
Uh oh, we all know opinions is like buttholes
(Waxed) on another note
I stay clean while the mud was thrown
Thought I was low, my cover was blown
(You say) like a note on the old trombone
Don't make me rub your nose
The funds I hold
I count so much dough up, my thumbs are swole
(Shit) stole the summers, drove road runners
Keep the TEC
Might heat one half of the Cocoa Brothers
(What up, Tek?)
My leather coat feel like cocoa butter (yeah)
This is culture, my folks was smoking butter
(Wow) the pole come with a muffler (Facts)
I send them hoes back to you broken
Roughed up
Pistol whipped your dog and broke the gun
Spoke in tongues just like I said too much
The buns was dark, shit ain't no bubblegum
They never seen us coming like a sucker punch
Uh, I got the game and the fiends
(Smoke 'em out)
These ain't Supreme, these sneakers 80 G's
Baby, please
(baby, please) please get off my dick, baby