Roc Marciano Richard Gear
God bless my soul I'm a sinner
The path to righteousness is thinner
I was beating with many stripes, far more than I like to remember
My life is like a wild adventure
Cops tried to pinch us, niggas piled up in my mama's Sentra
I had the 9 with the condenser
Your T go from white to magenta
When them shots enter
Hit you and left your body bent up (nigga twisted)
You know the chain of command if it's for dollars then we can prolly link up
But otherwise it's unlikely my nigga
I'm not to be taken lightly I'm a silent killer
Do me a solid, come suck what's behind the zipper
I steer the ship, ma. I'm the skipper
I don't fish, I'm more Guy Fisher but just a bit richer
There's no magician that could trick us
No roost no chickens could spook us we ain't superstitious
I'm witcha bitch in the booth in the Ruth Chris kissing
We slid in the back door and walked through the kitchen
Ass so fat, this shit had me tripping like tryna stick Rod Strickland
My aura glisten, I shot the bull with the stick from long distance
And went off the grid to chill just like a baller with a torn meniscus
I still never slip with all this water dripping, knocked the game up, it was more than just morning sickness
I hit the floor to beg for the lord's forgiveness, I done lost my discipline, I'm tempted
Listen, kid, I'm still on that pimp shit
My shooter's like Larry Bird he from Port-au-Prince he not from French Lick
Shit is intrinsic, my niggas kill, that's how we build friendships
Til then your membership's pending
Pinky ring with the diamond pendant swinging
I'm in a european speeding up and down Linden
