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