Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Flash Gordon, artist - Roc Marciano. Date of issue: 24.12.2020
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Flash Gordon |
| Used to have to pitch |
| Now I print cash with the bic |
| The pad is a blank check |
| Embrace death, taste flesh |
| While the rhyme on the page is still wet |
| Far from fictitious |
| The cars attract the bitches |
| I hear the whispers |
| My palms got the blisters |
| Buy the 45, you’re moisturized |
| The oysters are fried |
| Pull fives out the toybox |
| Be as lonely at the top |
| The watchband is croc |
| The palace is a camelot |
| Don’t ride the camel when it’s hot |
| They channeling Pac |
| My chairman scramble and rock |
| While I dance to the Spanish guitar |
| Spit the chorus |
| To stimulate the whore’s clitoris |
| It taste like porridge |
| I felt rewarded from the man |
| I ran from the warrant |
| The high top Ewings is blue and orange |
| Flash Gordon |
| We still getting it |
| Piping dimes on the terrace |
| I’m thinking about my life where it’s headin |
| I sleep with heat under the pillow |
| The cash is where I left it, it’s nothing |
| I watch the city while I’m fucking |
| I’m such a glutton |
| Gucci buckets with the Chukkas motherfuckers |
| As a dove flew out the glove of the magician |
| It was just as I predicted |
| Reality is prescripted |
| Trees twisted |
| Autistic, gorgeous hitmen |
| Escort the vixen |
| Porsches, Imported liquids |
| To buy a snake and acquired taste |
| We play for higher stakes |
| Wine and dine by the fireplace |
| Romantic, strawberries on the coke |
| My chariot approach, I vanished |
| Parlaying with the players |
| Switch layers Mr. Rogers, galoshes |
| Foxes to dance topless |
| I hit the spot that’s erogenous, erotic |
| Brolic hips hippopotamus |
| Chocolate bitch |
| The clock is a Swiss |
| The chronic is lit |
| Gin and tonic the mix |
| The Benz is a 6 |
| Inside the Matrix, I’m the glitch |
| 357 with the rubber grip |
| So when the beef pop |
| The shit don’t slip |
| We still getting it |
| Piping dimes on the terrace |
| I’m thinking about my life where it’s headin |
| I sleep with heat under the pillow |
| The cash is where I left it, it’s nothing |
| I watch the city while I’m fucking |
| I’m such a glutton |
| Gucci buckets with the Chukkas motherfuckers |