Lyrics Marcberg - Roc Marciano

Marcberg

To the G’s, to the custys
To the hood rats, where the kush at
Marcberg in the all black book bag
Push your bush back nigga this is good crack
What it look like nigga this is hood rap
Get it in fam till I bring the hook back
That’s G shitted, I had to sleep with it
Creep with it in the Jeep tinted
Weed scented, tricks up under sleeve hidden
Flea bitten this is street business
The heat niggas get beat with it
Squeeze triggers like green lemons
A dream winner, nigga we pitchin' heat like Clemens
Eleven innings, takin' ?, you’re did in
Mac 10 push your shit in
I slid in like a villain, stealin'
Twinkie fillin' start spillin' out your widdig
I went in like swimmin', venom
Split 'em and hem 'em like denim, lit up the izm
My position, Benz driven, men of vision
Support my decision but who isn’t?
Picture me livin' with a Robin Givens, locked in prison
But now I’m on top rockin' lizard, exquisite
To the G’s, to the custys
To the hood rats, where the kush at
Marcberg in the all black book bag
Push your bush back nigga this is good crack
What it look like nigga this is hood rap
Get it in fam till I bring the hook back
Well it’s the gun clapper, one stacker, shellacker
Pimp, no limp nor relaxer
Get at ya, catch ya, and capture your Cleopatra
And push your burrito backwards
I had to use a few guido tactics, made nigga
Rock them De Niro in Casino glasses
I should clap you and leave the ratchet
Ride the beat tight like a speedo jacket
Nothin' less than a kilo package, on the
Average, fine wine pour on the tablet
And more elaborate fabric, a lot of raw in the cabinet
Prada on with the cashmere, keep the gat near the cashier
You’re like deer versus black bear
Rap clear, and let the wax tear off your back hair
I’m back in here, act sincere
I smash your ear with a glass of beer like «yeah»
The master with the shaft beard
I don’t crack and stare, I’m packin' swear
Dashin', I mash 'em, smash and tear
You’re just asses, you’re flat and square
Splash 'em, what’s happenin' you like what’s here
Fast and frail yeah that’s what’s fair
Cats despair up on you let the rachets hail
To the G’s, to the custys
To the hood rats, where the kush at
Marcberg in the all black book bag
Push your bush back nigga this is good crack
What it look like nigga this is hood rap
Get it in fam till I bring the hook back
Nigga it’s hard not to backpedal
When you got crack to peddle and you pack metal
I bag your missus like fat nickels
To have me feelin' like I’m Fat Cat Nichols
I pass bags out the rental
To little niggas like skittles
Uh, you’re just kibble
I take bites at your riddles not nibbles
I clap missiles at your bureau
To put your face up on the wall like a mural
We get De Niro by the Euro
And put them VVS stones on the earlobes
I appear as a pharaoh
With six hollow head shells and a barrel
My apparel is that of a sparrow, fly to the marrow
I should be in the sky like a arrow
You see me you see the culture
In 3D, I’m the opposite of mediocre
As for wifey this thing is over
As soon as I meet me a Oprah I’m a need a chauffeur
The Louis loafer on the sofa
I keep a toolie in the holster like Sosa
I’m not a boaster
I’m just a vulture my face on a wanted poster
The streets is a mother
The fiends want the butter it’s hard to see through the clutter
My artistry is the gutter, but honestly
I’d rather be in the league not the Rucker
As I proceed in the chucka, your queen want me to cut her
You might need to cuff her mufucka