Velvet Cape - Roc Marciano, Action Bronson, Meyhem Lauren

Light my blunt, you fucking whore

Yeah, that’s what the fuck I’m talking about

Nigga’s got game, it’s a muthafucking shame

Make you want to grab the pump shotty and aim

One in the brain, uh yeah, one in the brain

Check it, yeah, uhh

Nigga’s got game, it’s a muthafucking shame

Grab the pump shotty and aim

When you see me with that mask

It ain’t for hockey, black

Used to play the lobby with crack

Wally’s is black

Pontiac’s quality rap

Tapping punani from the back off the Yak

My bitch is built like a yak

My kick’s is a rack

Open your chicken wrap

Wings on the pigeon flap

Still rock fisherman hats with the slacks

You’re listening to facts

Nothing false

My heart won’t defrost

Send shots back and forth

Serve soft, ho circle us all

Dipped in velour

Kiss the gift horse (muah)

A eighth off the bricks chipped off (break 'em off)

Rose gold links from Panama

Tan lines from camel rides

Smooth like the Phantom glides

Fly eyewear, diamonds is rare

Fresh out of Zaire

I’m on a higher tier

Dry your tear

Pop guns by the pair

One in the trunk, call that a spare

Lift you in the air

Ligaments tear

Yeah

My mind is different though

Just lift your chain over your neck

Don’t make it difficult

These choices I make

No need for explanation

Exceeding expectations

I’m like a surgeon deal with daily operations-

Of the life we live

Green drugs rolled up in paper

A very subtle Meyer lemon sauce

Sicilian capers

Moroccan razors

Cause life is all about a balance

Good come with the bad

The plain comes with the palette

It could get violent

Send your body to the stylist

I stand alone

You cats be wildin' like I’m Irish

Protection from the virus, «Magic» J

Homies pass away

I’m living life until that tragic day

Dip in 635, CSI, Gil Grissom eyes

We only smoke it if it’s crystallized

The drugs are hidden by a pigeon in her tits and thighs

My pockets never minimize

Whipping a cinnamon ride

This crime saga rap

Twist the Goldschläger cap

Waves under my stocking cap

Queens shit, we started that

East Coast artifact

Never artificial

Fly lecture architecture

Boxcutters will kiss you

Shotgun shells will massage you

Type of affection that’ll make your friends dodge you

It’s all love though

Even in times of war

I’ll beat the pussy up

And make vaginas raw

Wait a designer whore

They come back like china raw

Fly, fuck a tie

Only suit I’m rocking is velour

Got Benz money but look better in a Cadillac

Timepieces, rhyme, pieces

Victim of my habitat

Divine status, I’m already known for having that

Dead a tan linguine nowadays because I rather black

And fuck marinara, I like my gravy hotter

We keeps it spicy so I order it arrabiata