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