Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song No Smoke , by - Roc Marciano. Release date: 20.02.2017
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
No Smoke |
| I dream of Jeannie in that Hermès bikini |
| Listen, yo |
| Yo |
| I dream of Jeannie in that Hermès bikini |
| Drivin' in Aventador Lamborghini |
| Somewhere in Fiji, sippin' mojitos and martinis |
| While Trump tweetin' quotes from Mussolini |
| Shit I’m trying to raise my Kundalini |
| We all about our chicken and that fettuccine |
| My jeans are DSquared, my shoes are Buscemi |
| Son was, chewing zucchini, eating linguine |
| Shit got, hot and steamy |
| Send shots to his beanie |
| I’m from a block where they watching the schemin' |
| Plottin' and squattin', with the chopper then squeeze it |
| Let it fly then disappear like Houdini |
| Past the crime scene make sure his food was finished |
| Found his body laid on 129 and Lenox |
| Them hittas was out of town let 'em know who did it |
| (Man them niggas come from OT) |
| A far throw, that’s where his soul was sentenced |
| (Fuckin' lame ass nigga) |
| The nigga fold 'cause he told on his codefendant |
| (Word boy, that nigga outta here man) |
| He broke code when he told on his codefendant |
| Gold frames and gold chains, you chump change |
| Changin' lanes in the Mulsanne |
| I’m smooth like suede, your real estate sprayed like a shootin' range |
| I got shooters for days, ain’t nothing new I’m still doin' thangs |
| I still clean my jewelry with toothpaste |
| Drivebys in Taurus SHO |
| Silent murders with the crossbow (mmmmm) |
| Might blow this whole elbow, you fuckin' wit me? |
| Hell no |
| Rain hail snow, I smell like coke |
| Might drop in ammo belts and coats |
| Kel-Tec's held close |
| The Colt 40 got the elephant nose |
| You already know how the other shit goes |
| That’s my word, these proverbs |
| Niggas waitin' on my return, I had some time to burn |
| What’s a broken promise worth? |
| These are honest words |
| Momma I’m just tryna earn a dime to calm my nerves |
| Flyin' Spurs swerve, all kind of furs |
| Where drive-bys occur, watch pies get turned |
| The flyest bird, you must be high on sherm |
| You got nerve, they might have to buy you a iron shirt (woo!) |
| (Can't fuck with me boy, fuck outta here bum ass) |
| My bitch a white fox, go get your shinebox (go get it) |
| You ridin' or not? |
| I have ya body tied in a knot |
| Bacardi Limon on the rocks |
| Diamonds all on the watch |
| You ain’t got the chops to trade shots |
| The chopper weigh a lot, the tripod keep it stabilized |
| Dudes paying with your lives |
| To spray you is just a favor to the gods |
| Sacrifice you nigga |
| Take you to the altar nigga |
| Drop you in a volcano bitch, got me packin' my bag |
| Yeah, all that good shit |
| Light yo' ass up, boy |