Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song We Do It, artist - Roc Marciano. Album song Marcberg, in the genre Рэп и хип-хопDate of issue: 03.05.2010
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Marci Enterprises
Song language: English
We Do It |
| Nights is cold, dynamite sold |
| Gigolo wardrobe, soft on stoves |
| Four doors close, whores on the stroll |
| War stories are told and fool’s gold sold |
| Boss is thrown from four story homes |
| Porsches is all we got on |
| Never wore Saucony’s nor a pair of ponies |
| Rode wearing Rolly’s |
| Five pies no anchovies |
| Mack of the year, bitch I hold my trophy like Goldie |
| I knocked a row of Pretty Tony’s Tenderoni’s |
| Sent ten coyotes to run out to Wyoming |
| Like solitary rodent… |
| To smack you is an involuntary movement |
| But I get caught up in the moment |
| George «The Animal» Steele ya and kill ya |
| Peel silver and like a fat cow, milk ya |
| Spilt ya through a filter |
| Your fate is sealed i revealed ya |
| Filth to real is familiar |
| Real recognise realer |
| Don’t play the hand, play the dealer |
| Wearing concealer and Tequila |
| She sniff a smear off a mirror and then spear ya |
| Yeah I hear ya… |
| (We do it) |
| Yeah I hear ya |
| We do it |
| W-w-we do it |
| I mangle and mash, strangle that ass |
| Banged in the abs and laid in the trash |
| And sprayed with the mag |
| I came with the mask got eight in the cask |
| Escaped in the Jag but forty jakes came with the badge |
| The language is cash, explain to the mass |
| The angles in math, the angels in black to claim you and flash |
| You been a fag, i’ll display you in drag |
| Disgrace you and tag, degrade you when you stable an axe |
| Then give your weak label an axe, sable and hack |
| The way you mack, you lose ankle fat |
| Get in the lab and make the table crack |
| I’m paying you back for the way you act |
| Then lay you flat you ungrateful rat |
| Just like a rectangle in Madden, men scat |
| You just a resthaven for ass, you don’t wanna pimp |
| You just a trick like one of them |
| I’m from where the lovers of sin struggle to win |
| Spit 'til you covered in phlegm, enough to offend |
| Mothers and kids, nothing is above getting in |
| So bubble and |
| Son don’t wanna get pinched |
| Gun in my clinch, I’m running my sprints |
| You stuck on the bench |
| You swung on a limb, I hung on the strength |
| Get front on my grip |
| It’s tight like the butt on a fish |
| You melt like the butter on grits |
| And won’t get to sell a crumb on the strip |
| Unless I get a hundred per cent |
| We do it |
| W-w-we do it |
| Move at night, the torch improve my sight |
| They plan that Ka bite the pie and I lose my life |
| Hammer’s will blaze but not afraid to use the knife |
| 'Fore it’s blowing on I’m going to get some jewels of Christ |
| Forgive me, It’s a pity I starved, I wasn’t breast fed |
| Gritty niggas swear to god I’m right for my death bed |
| City of God, could be before I nest egg |
| Way too witty to ever hear me say «let's beg» |
| They say he’s possessed, yes he got the ghetto in him |
| My spit spread quick, no cure unless the little venom |
| let the metal spin 'em |
| The public my puppet, fuck it watch Geppetto string 'em |
| From a better kingdom straight rap sound is regal |
| Those lost in the haystack, you just found the needle |
| All praise due to the sky so the ground receive you |
| Bow, give a pound when we live in the crowd, we see you |
| We do it |
| W-w-we do it |