Lyrics Patina - The Purist, Roc Marciano

Patina

Groans from the cellar- my a cappella
My bitch a wild cat, only i could pet her
Pocket full of cheddar, popular sweater, popped the sheriff
Its all about buyers and sellers, condominiums with high ceilings
Proud villains
Blowing lines out in Venice, my grill got grimace, this shit is business
Niggas' pretenders
I rock in linen with sinners, flip the slippers
I do ya misses something malicious its sacrilegious
Sport the tux like daddy warbucks, got a horses' nuts
This shit is real, it’s more than us just talking tough
Im talking that stuff
That stuff that’s sure to get you tossed up
Torched up, long gun
That 21 right in there cumbersome
And when im done back in the cummerbund
Pull out the hummer when the summers done
Im summoned this is death of the becoming
But reoccurring
Nigga ya g ain’t even current
Im blowing european currant
You’ll be encouraged
These are gifts of being coloured
In your own inequity you’re being punished
Only relate to results im putting faith in the cult
Escape with snake on the cloak, my taste for dope is like a scapegoat
Break the note, able to fold
Dis my nigga’s soul
Shake his soul
Its taken its toll
I wrote this taking a stroll
A couple shakers on the payroll, jays rolled
Range rove, the split is suede raincoat
Hop out the rover like a stagecoach
Like one of jesse james folks
12 shots by my physical equator
Thats two six shooters
Niggas wanna do me like jesus and judas
Ma fucka