Roc Marciano – Velvet Cape Lyrics (feat. Action Bronson & Meyhem Lauren)

[Intro: Roc Marciano]
Light my blunt, you f*cking whore
Yeah, that’s what the f*ck I’m talking about
Nigga’s got game, it’s a muthaf*cking 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 muthaf*cking shame
Grab the pump shotty and aim

[Verse 1: Roc Marciano]
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

[Verse 2: Action Bronson]
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

[Verse 3: Meyhem Lauren]
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 p*ssy up
And make vaginas raw
Wait a designer whore
They come back like china raw
Fly, f*ck 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 f*ck marinara, I like my gravy hotter
We keeps it spicy so I order it arrabiata

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