Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Velvet Cape, artist - Roc Marciano. Album song The Pimpire Strikes Back, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 03.06.2020
Record label: Marci Enterprises
Song language: English
Velvet Cape |
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 |
Dipped 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 tits 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 |
Boxcutters 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 |