Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Avalon, artist - Roc Marciano. Album song The Living Daylights, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 10.02.2014
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: The Fly
Song language: English
Avalon |
A fallen soldier in Avalon |
The hidden meaning |
Trained in the shadow pawn |
Waist deep, baptized in a shallow pond |
Upon the chariot, chop it like shallots |
Could have said salad, the bullet and the ballot |
My chick bad laid black swan, grip a challice |
Full of fine wine, full flavored |
Layered in tradition, values, customs |
Must grow apart and let the world grow accustomed |
Let him think he won, see the truth it might crush him |
Flustered, I plant seeds, let the wings grow |
Trying to sand down my horns, I hand down a warm welcome |
A heaping helping |
Feast with my niggas belching |
Two bitches from Belgium we never heard of |
Belgian waffles you awfully mistaken |
Lawfully unwedded to this paper that I’m making |
Banking, I’m brave enough to be creative |
But I acclimate like a native |
Trying to blend in with the cadence |
Abide by the rules, fuck the latest |
Trend, I just came for the accolades |
Spend more time on important shit |
Self improvement, this money sorting shit |
Crowned prince, nigga |
This shit’s beautiful my nigga |
Well said |
Let’s get back into it and get lost, motherfucker |
Straight up |
Get it fucked up, nigga |
The watch is swiss, the rhymes, these are hieroglyphs |
Glide from a cliff |
It’s rare I fire and miss |
I usually hit the bull’s iris |
One shot, kill out the six-fifty hybrid |
Sex magic, Inspector Gadget jacket |
Snatch cabbage out the cabinet |
It’s orgasmic |
A soft fabric rabbit |
Assault weapon, a course lesson |
Court in session, my aura’s florescent; |
orange |
My origin is gorgeous |
Whores around the sun orbit |
Fellatio with fallen angels |
The angles tell you put the hit on dangles |
Got the game in a strangle, my three chains get tangled |
Break bread at the table |
Break down a quaalude, break it up |
Wooden jewelry niggas fronting |
You’re not conscious |
Where I reside is at the top of the compass (North) |
Vocally, I hit different nuances |
You talking nonsense |
Chant the incantation like a witch doctor |
My bloodline’s brown like a mudslide |
My corpse turn to butterflies |
Family man, slash pimp, live double lives |
These are troubling times, nigga |