Ric Martel - Westside Gunn, Roc Marciano

Ayo, George Condo’s in the condo

I can cook coke with my eyes closed

The Beemer grill Ron English (skr)

Whole brick for 28, look like we bleached it

Leather strings in the Tinkers

A wig rocking the weight, shot him out the gate

The jumper got no breaks

Park inside the shake

Rose, fuck around with the pink face

Standing on the couch with the pink gates

The bitches love the neck drip

Clip and the TEC flip, my shooter only sniff the best shit (grr)

Put the brains out for the extras (boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom

boom)

TEC wrapped in the Hermes handkerchief

Excuse a nigga excellence

Alright

Nigga, fuck that, kill his ass, nigga

Well, if you must know, bucko

I bust the pump, slugs stuck in your stucco

Shells all in your home and humble abode

Uh oh, we all know opinions is like buttholes (waxed)

On another note, I stay clean while the mud was thrown

Thought I was low, my cover was blown (you say)

Like a note on the old trombone

Don’t make me rub your nose, the funds I hold

I count so much dough, my thumbs are swole (shit)

Stole the summers, drove road runners

Keep the TEC, might heat one half of the Cocoa Brothers (what up, Tek)

My leather coat feel like cocoa butter (yeah)

This is culture, my folks was smoking the butter (wow)

The pole come with a muffler (facts)

I send them hoes back to you, broken, roughed up

Pistol whipped your dog and broke the gun

Spoke in tongues just like buns

The buns was dark, shit ain’t no bubble gum

They never seen us coming like a sucker punch

Uh, I got the game and the fiends (smoke 'em out)

These ain’t Supreme, these sneakers 80 Gs

Baby please (please)

Please get off my dick, baby