Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Snow , by - Roc Marciano. Release date: 12.12.2019
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Snow |
| Oh shit, oh shit! |
| Yo look outside son |
| You see that? |
| Damn son, it’s comin' down right? |
| Ok |
| Let’s go |
| Yeah, yeah |
| You played the art of war like a chess champ |
| The wrestler’s camp, let’s give the man a hand |
| He used to go hand to hand by the gram |
| Take a brick and then grind it to sand |
| Baby girl, my 45. don’t jam, Al Pacino wit a tan |
| Ghetto Casino, rollin' c-lo wit Vito |
| For nothing under a c-note, nigga, we still reppin' the East Coast |
| Reaching for toast like TV remotes |
| Spray cans where graffiti is wrote |
| And where the media promotes so I appear like a genie in smoke |
| And for me it’s so easy to boast, even when I’m greasy & broke |
| In a pea coat |
| And this beat here’s good as meatloaf |
| Better yet a pot roast |
| Gettin' block close, if niggas need dope |
| The hits out, better you then me first |
| Nigga do your research, you’ll be six feet beneath dirt |
| Promise you this much, I’m out for the big bucks, Mr. Big Stuff, |
| get your shit touched |
| Keep the 45th tucked, nigga kiss butt |
| Whip a Benz truck, siippin' juice from a pimp’s cup, huh |
| This is money rap, run a hundred & twenty laps |
| On the track, it’s a money wrap |
| Blat! |
| Brothers scat, do some jumping jacks |
| Brothers put out a buncha crap |
| Now they perfect for tax |
| Snow |
| Let’s go, finesse the flow |
| Fresh dressed from head to toe, let em' know |
| On wit the show, we used to play the corner for dough |
| Rain… hail… |
| Snow |
| Let’s go, finesse the flow |
| Fresh dressed from head to toe, let em' know |
| On wit the show, we used to play the corner for dough |
| Rain… hail… |
| Snow |
| Me and my niggas had dreams of riches |
| Bad bitches wit mean figures, keep the green twisted |
| Squeeze biscuits, underneath the money green Discus, 2010, hits and mischief |
| Juggling Jum’s, bubblegum |
| Cum on her tongue, the color of rum, it’s the return of the fly bum, hon |
| Maybe it’s just my radiant flesh or the baby tech that wet up a grey GS, yes |
| Place your bets, till I get to taste success, rappers to me are just a waste of |
| breath |
| If they can’t take a threat then pay Flex out the Avirex |
| Snakes for pets |
| Eat a rat, spit out the head |
| Single handedly rip, you and whoever you wit, level and peddle some incredible |
| shit |
| Run in your kennel once the kettle is lit |
| We’ll beat you wit the metal clip, firmly legit |
| You Kibbles & Bits, bitch |
| Snow |
| Let’s go, finesse the flow |
| Fresh dressed from head to toe, let em' know |
| On wit the show, we used to play the corner for dough |
| Rain… hail… |
| Snow |
| Let’s go, finesse the flow |
| Fresh dressed from head to toe, let em' know |
| On wit the show, we used to play the corner for dough |
| Rain… hail… |
| Snow |