Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Ruff Town, artist - Roc Marciano. Album song The Pimpire Strikes Back, in the genre Рэп и хип-хопDate of issue: 03.06.2020
Record label: Marci Enterprises
Song language: English
Ruff Town |
| Sometimes you’re up, some down |
| I grew up in a rough town |
| Bust around smoke a bus down |
| I’m not the one to fuck around (fuck around) |
| I’m focused marvel at the opus, |
| Dangerous when at my brokest (uh) |
| Sold to smokers |
| Deal with brokers in the alley |
| Ten different drugs it might vary |
| Eat to carry and dally through the deepest valley no battery |
| And my back is eager to bring agony |
| Niggas on my dick shits flattering |
| And word, I hate to sound arrogant |
| But my Dsquared tees is two hundred a pop |
| My shoe ain’t got a spot on the bottom or the top |
| Fresh out the box you ain’t never seen these |
| Vietnamese appeased by the deities |
| While the naive? |
| with the thieves |
| I lay back in fatigues with the calfskin sleeves |
| Moral of the story is I’m fallin in the DeLorean |
| Disorient where the weather’s the stormiest |
| Y’all niggas is the corniest |
| My coordinates forever close to where the water is |
| Relaxation, black bitches naked |
| The rituals are sacred, Cristal by the cases |
| Sniff the vapors out of spliff papers |
| It’s the evasive, Marc baby, accept no imitations (uh) |
| To make a long story short |
| Fuck the tough talk, you’ll get brushed off (uh) |
| Sometimes you’re up, some down |
| I grew up in a rough town |
| Bust around smoke a bus down |
| I’m not the one to fuck around (fuck around) |
| All is fair in love and war |
| I’m in yo crib like bro-man from the 5th floor showin the four |
| Just chillin' (uh) respect given (uh), those dealin' more weight less feelings |
| Beef isn’t my preference, I want green and fresh fish on blessed dishes |
| God willin' I reflect wisdom, embodies me I represent realness, it’s what |
| separates us they never came up in the game, they imitators. |
| Cowards die a thousand times living greater, won’t compare to the spear |
| eventually facing |
| Those who fit description, spittin' fiction altering fact they’re inconsistent |
| They’ve never seen the belly of the beast within the system, they’re just talk, |
| no street credentials |