1.

Tek To A Mack
(produced by ROC MARCIANO)

(INTRO) Ya’ll doo-doo, I’ll sock it to you Modern philosopher

Pierce your rib with the spear like Shaka Zulu The feds trying to pop at us
Yeah, check, Marc Cops pursue you But ya’ll ain’t got the proper size nuts
Back for the crown baby When you got pies like Lu Lu Line me up without the iron cuff
AV that’s brown like gravy Control a whore’s mind like voodoo Reclined in the truck
Style is wavy Suave, CL 5 grey in the driveways My mind like a diamond in the rough
Lazy eye Tracy McGrady Ménage à trois on Fridays Apply the cut gotta come up
Deliver like an 80 pound baby Peel bills consistent Got to sit tough, Chronic is puff
I’m a horse, you a rope And just to think I willed this into existence Wallets is buff, I’m a stud
I let off Macks Memories of being broke are now distant Dollars is spotted with blood
You crap in your clothing I insisted biscuits The nine snub
Golden moments For all that I did to get rich then Should hold you out with thugs
Rolls Royce driver named Coleman I hope within you forgive the kid like a You forgot what it was, huh?
45 watch game frozen Christian Well bitch that’s what is though
Scared to death To get rich then, I hope within Pitch em an O Lou Ferrigno, indo
Mad salty like a potato chip You forgive the kid like a Flowed out the benz
You know the routine Tinted windows
I’m out to break a bitch CHORUS Pimp bones
Over the stove with the bakers mitt From the deuce to the tre Exotic skin tones
I’m still on that gangsta shit From a tre to an eighth Ear lobes flooded with gem stones
Burning that dour From an A to a K to a 9 from a K Money put in a hoes flip ten folds
European footwear From a K to the grey, 45 all black Gotta stack it
I’m coming off a real good year All black 45, from a tec to a mac Ya squad is at the bottom of the bracket
Kush in the air That’s why I keep the llama in the bomber
Them niggas like books, Look square Big dinners, dilemmas jacket
I swear they don’t even got hood flare I ride in a Plymouth That’ll push yo whole yarmulke backwards
I’m a natural, You little rascal Listening to the Spinners
Homo swag, I wouldn’t put it past you I love the art but it’s a business (CHORUS)
Changes invested, faith’s tested D’s trying to pin us
I paid for the necklace and ate breakfast Cause what I do with the pen is stupendous Gangsta Mack. Back.
My thoughts is pour torches left corpses Young niggas look up to us like father figures
My chariot pulled by horses Design fly rhymes like architecture
2. FLASH GORDON
(produced by THE ALCHEMIST)

Used to have to pitch I felt rewarded from the man Porsches, Imported liquids
Now I print cash with the bic I ran from the warrant To buy a snake and acquired taste
The pad is a blank check The high top Ewings is blue and orange We play for higher stakes
Embrace death, taste flesh Flash Gordon Wine and dine by the fireplace
While the rhyme on the page is still wet Romantic, strawberries on the coke
Far from fictitious CHORUS My chariot approach, I vanished
The cars attract the bitches We still getting it Parlaying with the players
I hear the whispers Piping dimes on the terrace Switch layers Mr. Rogers, galoshes
My palms got the blisters I’m thinking about my life where it’s headin Foxes to dance topless
Buy the 45, you’re moisturized I sleep with heat under the pillow I hit the spot that’s erogenous, erotic
The oysters are fried The cash is where I left it, it’s nothing Brolic hips hippopotamus
Pull fives out the toybox I watch the city while I’m fucking Chocolate bitch
Be as lonely at the top I’m such a glutton The clock is a Swiss
The watchband is croc Gucci buckets with the Chukkas The chronic is lit
The palace is a camelot motherfuckers Gin and tonic the mix
Don’t ride the camel when it’s hot The Benz is a 6
They channeling Pac As a dove flew out the glove of the magician Inside the Matrix, I’m the glitch
My chairman scramble and rock It was just as I predicted 357 with the rubber grip
While I dance to the Spanish guitar Reality is prescripted So when the beef pop
Spit the chorus Trees twisted The shit don’t slip
To stimulate the whore’s clitoris Autistic, gorgeous hitmen
It taste like porridge Escort the vixen (CHORUS)
3. NOT TOLD feat . Knowledge The Pirate & KA
(produced by ROC MARCIANO)

CHORUS Take advice from wise men with ends Blowing cannabis
I’m in that all black boat Rhymes is deep As I navigate down One Two 5th
See how I be leaning like I’m You might want to dive in and swim Water blue Mazi straight off the dealership
On that dope You feel the pain in the music We pour out liquor in remembrance.
Certified grimey nigga My ways are polluted
Wore that coat, knock your Big chain hang stupid, (CHORUS)
Ass over like poor black That’s how we do shit, chill nigga
Folk, bag up the coke like You already know how we play, nigga (KA)
Quaker Oats, take notes You ain’t have a clue,
Play the stove, lames are disposed (CHORUS) The niggas had to see and had to do
Tre eight ohs bang in Your clothes Just to have some wheat that we can chew
Train hoes the game is to be sold not told (KNOWLEDGE THE PIRATE) We need to make a stew
Before the night part this life start The need to feed, lead a fatal boom
Learned life lessons, late night fighting Don’t be on at four in the morning In the streets knee deep major crew
Leopards, Polo’d down like Tyson Beckford Get etch a sketched in that white chalk They lie and deprive
Flow is nice, the blow is white like Robert It’s raining and storming It’s what they made us do
Redford, little homie this is just textbook The water is quite dark Engage in the trades and evades
Flesh is cook, bust my gun like them kids in Kingpins, killers turn informants Gauges will bllew
Red Hook, Thinking they might walk But don’t touch the custies, wave em through
Keep it jumping like Russel Westbrook No playing, or pranking Rugging in public, covered our neighbors too
It can’t be better put Have you walking a plank Our haters grew, necessarily sinning.. glowing
We live fast, got a lead foot Now you food for them sharks in the tank with confidence
Push sevens out, metal brook From a hood where we sharpen our shanks Temporarily winning, the only consequence
Ya mellon get whupped Kingpins get stripped for their ranks Fuck man law, I’m speaking of the fire
Will find your skeleton in the hood The watch and chain, plus the pinky ring Word to the sire
I sat and had a sip at the gentleman’s club Come through customs with a couple things My fans poor, I’m preaching to the choir
Intelligent writers, pockets got elephantitis Six fifty clean with the custom rims We in the dirt, reaching with desire
Come with choppers like helicopter pilots M16 with a couple clips That’s why we sling the work
I drive a five lopsided Mossberg pumps with a pistol grip Seeking for a buyer
Pop iron Silencers, infrared, all official shit Cook it up, keep it on the fryer
Trying to make a hole for you like linemen A few Nick Cannons off of my pirate ship Pump enough base to make speakers burst
Designer trends is high end I’m disguised in Married to Mariah Carey as I hug the strip Then we can all retire
Cartiers is wide thin, keep my eyes hid Submariner Rolex wrappedaround her wrist
4. PISTOLIER
(produced by THE ALCHEMIST)

CHORUS Display the axes With the shoulder stock

Truth or dare, Twin nickle plated ratchet Mozzola popping the pan
For niggas that’ll shoot the square The rainbow roll is radioactive Pop a clan, chop the tan
Yeah, Gortex, got a few pair With a tramp, daddy gallivant The king’s head was propped on the stand
Bust a move, make a shoe tear Break the marrow like an aloe plant Feeding at the garden of Eden
Take off your ear like a souvenir We came gallant in the caravan I’m a heathen
Swing from the chandelier The Smith & Wesson be the mallet brand Two fifths of my bitch cleavage
Richard Gere with the gear Ric Flair You tend to extend the olive branch It’s the completion
Squeeze clips in the brisk air All my niggas hustle digital scales, Cazals Scripted jewel
Split your pear for for the wristwear The fish scale, color Kevin McHale I’m sitting by the pool
The kid is a pistolier Lift the veil where the pelicans sail Mate with the Goddess
The black Mac 11 is held Light the chronic
Yo, diamond choker You either go to Heaven or Hell With a flame from a comet
We binded up the ponderosa Motherfucker Plant the seed
Islamic culture I’m limping like Willis Reed
Put the copper in the toaster (CHORUS) Move at a pimp speed to bend trees
Pot smoker, push the Rover The theme make the triple beam lean
With the silent motor Tighten the knot Lit up a stick of nicotine
Mama, I’m vulgar Nights at the dock Got me ducking ten speed in Benvarine
My persona got the fly aroma Shot at the livestock Pin the text
Catch me on stage The top of the thermometer pop Pinky resting in crystal meth
Rapping in Jamaican accent (Bombaclot) One monkey don’t make the show stop Tickle the trigger with the index, press
Bang a actress We plot over the stovetop
From Moreno to Anglo Saxon Sip Coronas, lift the Dakotas (CHORUS)
5. THUGS PRAYER PT.2
(produced by ROC MARCIANO)

God bless the soldiers, Sniff the cocaine hill off a bill, it’s surreal Piss on the city from the skyscraper
We lost out in the field With chopsticks lift the eel with skill Face your fears
When you was killed The deal was to keep the pitcher fill Your prayers fell on deaf ears
It was Allah’s will My signature was written on the bill We parked the yacht by the pier
We part your pill with large steel They Fisher Price mic grippers And shot the deer
You left a big pair of Clarks to fill Tip them light like strippers illicit My bitch rock the weird Moncler
We flipped the hard still Two piece chicken with the biscuit Resemble Pam Grier
And watched you cartwheel This is simplistic My vision is clear
Parked the Civil on the dark hill I had the iron in my fist when I enlisted I sip the Everclear
Feel the wind chill I was twisted off of strawberry cough My wounds is severe
The pill of imbecile like Seal The Pelle’s very soft My skin is unfair
Blood out the pen spill The Pirelli’s on course The fair make the rare gun flare
I chill by the window sill I’m heavy with the floss Shit your underwear
Think about mils Cock sucker get lost Can’t steal my thunder
I’m on a no frills, niggas heels Grind hard for the paper You’s a fucking square
The dillingers reveal but not on film This is tip of the glacier And I swear I shed a thug’s tear
I print the literature with zeal, appeal Sip the Henny without the chaser Say a thug’s prayer
6. 76
(produced by ROC MARCIANO)

Quadraports, slide off through a time warp Pictures of me and all of my affiliates Your bitch get fucked, missionary
Been getting money before dinosaur We lit phillies like idiots, kill a lineage Visionary, I bust shots out
Dimes is on Llamas is long Let them know what it really is The tinted end daddy
Write rhymes on island resorts Niggas is penniless with skinny ribs Ghetto poet
Dimes who snort I fire semis in too many wigs Four up in the rodent look bloated
Some guys who slide a line inside a Newport I’m feeling like Billy the Kidd, skinny big You shouldnt’ve gloated, I unloaded
Push a fly two door like Too $hort You literally live as a guinea pig I was molded to stand up
I’m just a artist with a tech If the timbs ain’t on deck When other niggas folded
Hard as a beget You know the pennies is The spirit out your body just floated
Carve a nigga head Your fingers still penny pinch Word to my son, I’ll murder a bum
You a meatball, get squeezed on You make me pull a mack milli Turn your thumb, until it swell up like plum
Your physical being turn to cream corn Out the Fendi trench Your future look glum
Slice a quarter for the order, At any event, hold the twelve gauge that’s I heard I feel numb, I’m numb when guns
Supporter, roll dice on the corner heavy as shit bang on you like steel drums, spill blood
Gats tucked, big cash can touch em at the For every clip we let steadily rip, push your Plus sweat before I lift the iron up, stretch
cusp afro back to Seventy Six, motherfucker Clutch the tec, bust til your wet heads
Couple of hundred racks on the rug rubberneck
Young don, son’s under the arm Niggas is petty, legendary Like, “Damn, what a fucking mess.”
He treat Lamborghinis like bumper cars All of my enemies are dead and buried Who want come test or unimpressed
Got scars I let twenty hit your strawberry Pelle Make you undress
Chains around the necks like scarves Burn holes in your belly like Henny To eat food like I’m underfed
Your limbs hang out of threads like yarn Betty, turn up dead like Freddy Dump with the Feds, like I’m on the dead
I’m the next big thing For owing niggas fetti With one in the head
Chickenheads cling the bed spring king Get cut with the machete Don’t let it be left unsaid
Run the ring, my head is on Lift you up quick with the desy
The top of the pyramids Smuggle drugs stuffed in the teddy
7. WE ILL
(produced by ROC MARCIANO)

Folding bills where I hone my skills Young niggas is chased by the jakes Do a set of concentration curls
I was a soldier in the field Create freebase High fashion, climaxing on satin
Where you only get to eat what you could kill He bakes pies and cakes The outside of the tilapia was blackened
I keep the steel in the clean Seville And fiends form lines to taste Share the gift, wood gear shift
Bad bitch rolling off a E pill I played the A8 I appear in the mist
Treat a rich hoe like a cheap thrill While my primates decides your fate Then dip like Tokyo Drift
We ill, we ill, we ill, we ill And killed the vampire with the steak Caress the fifth like Professor Griff
Ain’t no love, and if it was I’m a threat behind the designer specs Texture is slick
I wouldn’t own a snub and some gloves Fly, you might find me in a spiderweb Ten in your whip
Seen niggas get plugged over the grub, Don Juan dialect, Hawaiian dime Now may you rest with the fish
Hoes got dug, your 0-5 bug will hit the mud Got her by the neck Squeeze glocks for stocks, three quarter fox
I hit the pub, lifted the mug What’s your pimping worth? Thick big pitbull jawlock, I’m the warlock
Bitches hit the club When you pick the lint off shirts My lines go for ten a pop like orange tops
I slipped a clip in the gun Whores disperse for kids Fuck you niggas with a horse’s cock
Niggas on the run To put the fork in dessert I’m taking mines off the top
My skin don’t get enough sun For talking, I put the Porsche in reverse Whores watch as we board the yacht
I had to winter my lungs to overcome Flesh get tossed into the Earth Like George C. Scott, Ciroc
I’m still paying for my past tense After I draw and squirt Five drops of olive oil in the wok
Sitting in the E class Benz I plant my feet upon foreign dirt Presidential watch, call it Barack
Black ski mask, black timbs Roll up the purp, with a smart “fuck you” smirk Black face shit, with the invisible locks
Platinum mac ten I lift the Rosé up til the muscles burn To get you shot just like the Hitchcock plot
That’ll shatter your Cadillac tints Hustle and earn
Strange days, cocaine’s weighed by the eighth The handle on the thirty two is pearl We ill, we ill, we ill, we ill
8. DEEPER
(produced by ROC MARCIANO)

CHORUS Dip em in the sauce Sixteen in the clip, one in the chamber
Smooth shit, daddy, what you know about it? Linen cloth, lay on the king Sure footed
Pimp shit, what you know about it? Blessings to my offspring The Porsche dashboards wooden
So, What you know about it? And sip the water from the spring Motherfuckers bite the bullet
It ain’t a thing The six forty seats like pudding
Eight ball, corner pocket Patent leather ski mask It’s the position I was put in
My hustle can’t knock it My feet past a g and a half My bitch arch her back
The game chop it, catastrophic Pull out the fast European cab I slip the wood in, can I kill it?
I’m after the profit crab? Call it the cooler Funkadelic, George Clinton
Pull out a salad out the stocking, it’s popping I’m basically a jeweler Keep it pimping, more convincing
I popped in the cherry blossom You trying to fool a consumer Without the tension
Rocked the Locman in the cockpit Cubic zirconia, I copped the colt in Mongolia Mini mansion, Mr. Belvedere Benson
You fronting like you hot shit I spoke harmonious at the podium Honey dip lit up a Winston
Shake out, dress understated Not to mention, expense is the prince’s
At the steak house (CHORUS ) pretentious, no pretend shit
Spaced out, deep in the game Tennis kicks, tinted lenses
I pray I make it out Twist a nino, my bitch like Ginger in casino My thirst for the chips is tremendous
Two bitches naked on the couch, crouch Pink tuxedo, show machismo It’s never ending, it’s a win-win
Gold Porsche, I’m a clothes horse Clean your clock, soft toe Reebok Come again
Your boss thrown in a trough Peacock move like a robot
The blow’s soft, you throwing salt on pork Stovetop, Stan Smither (CHORUS)
You done prick em with the fork Rod Laver cock the hammer
9. DEATH PARADE
(produced by ROC MARCIANO)

Niggas know I’m the fucking best, word up! Crime ambassador I forever swear to spit that Blair Witch
Can’t fuck with me, straight up! My capturers channel my spirit Bare witness to rare shit
You know we getting it, straight up! Through the shrine in Africa Stare Benzes like airships
I fly past like a time traveler You can’t get this pimping out a pamphlet
I stay close to the Baretta Millionaire hand print from a tan prince
Folks that wave toast, know better CHORUS The gear you wear get rinsed
Gross cheddar, cut it up It all boils down to that green mama Buy the tec wit the air vents
Throw it in the shredder Niggas squeeze llamas I caress the wood gear shift
Hoes sniff lines off of broken mirrors Just to seize dollars You’re weak tomb won’t move me
I throw five at your smoke tinted, rented D’s and Impalas, street scholars Not a square inch
You hope to try to dip it like Emmitt Hopping out of V’s with them clean Prada’s Spit your zucchini tear swift
Your image is translucent like a bent ceiling Sip pina coladas Your CTS, tail spent
I see you trying to blend in like a chameleon With a mean goddess BBS rim well bend
Gun wielding, I’m on the low, I feel shielded We eastsiders, jeans is knotted Man of the cloth
But that’s a false sense of fulfillment Niggas don’t want it That bullshit endless talk ran its course
Debts are paid in the death parade Like the HIV virus, word up! Blam fours til you abandoned the fort
Shots are exchanged from the Escalade Got birds like Le Coq Sport at the port
My late father’s name in the chest, engraved Wounds and bandages, food and cannabis Salt water on the yacht floorboard
A pound and three grams Money management, advantages, damages Popping wine cork
With the necklace weighed The Spanish fans break banisters These are just a crime boss thoughts
Man, a character Gates, and parameters
Get clapped up in your Challenger They see us wearing chains and amulets (CHORUS)
The glock 9’s black with the silencer Handle this, evangelist condo in Los Angeles
I’m a bachelor flip pies without the spatula That kind of dough will hold your hand a pimp Yeah, yeah nigga! East Coast shit! Fuck with me!
You died in the Valentine massacre Once away at my descent, my hair is rich
10. 20 GUNS
(produced by ROC MARCIANO)

Foreign exports dress boss With lead you beg to get your head wrenched Hold the wheel steady
Select the escort I’m like Clooney Canary yellow scaglietti
That was just a fresh thought In ghetto jewelry Pendergrass Teddy
Ralph Lauren tee Polo Uzi A classic medley
The Porsche jeep come with the warranty The stone I threw you was a ruby Champagne roley
Performance fee worth a quarter key I move smoothly Shows for ladies only
Let the mink drape Roll a doobie in the jacuzzi El Padroni
Drink the grapes behind the gates After the movie My ears ghostly
The G5 skate apply grace She asked to do me The Lex interior was oak tree
Tongue kiss a fifth I replied absolutely Liberian poetry
I wrap your bitch up like a gift Sex noises unfamiliar voices He approach me
This must be how it feel to reel in fish You make choices From young to older
Keith Sweat sing at the wedding The poor witness, the rich man rejoices Hoes with crows feet
I rap with the tennin leggings Tans in January Blow spliffs
And fed the peasants presents Forever camera ready Flows emotionless
Black or spanish Hammers is heavy Your broken in six
Be the preference Scams are petty Frozen wrist I threw a poker chip
Reverence Hands is sweaty
11. PERU
(produced by ROC MARCIANO)

Angel dust off wave brush You may have heard through the grapevine Tall cap rap
Cut the tusk adjust It rained on the day that Marvin Gaye died Illusion top taught
Its not a negative its a plus When I was in my father’s graveside Until your thought
Oil the heat don’t let it rust Beside the feeling was odd Chopped a tomahawk
Its a must I’m nod to cool James Todd The drama popped off
Some will call it luck The mood changed I morphed into Kid Frost
I heard your story but doggy I wasn’t touched In rap I’m top of the food chain Slugs are tossed
I burn trees as the words received My lawyer pop the crocodile suitcase I’m rubbed down with the cloth
Your deceived You can’t dispute taste My whore apply lip gloss
I’m mentally free All the loot is safe in the fire proof safe As I get tatted in my suite in Manhattan
Twisted in prayer beads Boots is laced Speaking latin
Juice the pears and tangerines please Move with the eight I’m a lover
This is music Shoot straight Covered in body butter
Your disillusioned Then knock the grape off your fruit cake Brown skin somali color
To think you can remove my cuban Melancholy
I have you poked up Pen in hand Who wrote this a felon probably
Oozing and thats the conclusion Spliff in the other I play the telly like Teddy Riley
Pardon me for the intrusion You a ugly motherfucker Lick the poonani benz big body
I’m in the blue Porsche truck cruising Smoke something bitch Aphrodite
With Susan Thats a quote from Chad Butler Ass is mighty
Mac of the year I’m just a shoe in I’m on the jack The chrome 25 shiny
Your little waves is just a splash in the pool My whores like a horse on a track But yet tiny
kid I’m on her ass I whip the fly E
Like a jockey with the strap With the IV
Nevermind the lesser kind No time to be lingering in the back Its cocaine white like Jon B
Do not cast pearls before swine I’m fingering the cat
Take it as a sign Flow like water out the tap
12. THREAD COUNT
(produced by Q-TIP)

In seclusion I pin up piff Bad bitch swinging in the hammock Slick tongue like a litigator
In the land cruiser I took a dip in the Atlantic Facilitator
Tan like I been to cuba And bit the salmon Decision maker
Keys is white like sand in aruba Its slamming My inner layers
Exude confidence Is the himalayas
From my view of the metropolis Come on hit me Bridget is impressed by the days
I fed flakes to my tropical fish I sit up in the four fifty
Pull the top off the six Shifty Yellow gold and terry cloth robes
Like Badu wig This is raw nigga history The Wardrobe
I’m no push over A slick pimp might resort to trickery That made hoes come in droves
I push a Rover Bitches dig me With less clothes and the flesh exposed
You push a Puma like a foot sodier Your money fall short like a pygmy In a Lexus we drove through infested roads
I put dog like I push cola Waves flow like the Mississippi Pellets are thrown into flesh and bone
And cock the pistola Guns longer than the wig on a hippy Your name get carved into headstones slow
Hands inside the isotoners On the hip keep the blicky Gangster cadance
Spend the night with a dice roller Petite wiz opposite of Missy My space is shaded
You pray your ice gets returned Depict me as super witty The heat is nickel plated
To its rightful owner My shank might remove her titty Assets is liquidated
Rifles in the trunk of the caddy I jumped off the heel of my achilles What I’m conveying
We dump you in the swamps This is light work to me Isn’t easily articulated
Somewhere down in miami Turn a knife if your kidney Roll solo
My brush stroke the canvas I pray Allah might forgive me Like the Marcsberg photo
You caught in a gambit Now who could see me Earth from Acapulco
And pimp slapped open handed Musically I’m with the kundalini We hit that
I demanded I easily scoop your Nefertiti Flat screen cinemax promo
For the operation to be expanded I bump the CD Benz logo
Be a standard In the green Lamborghini Black RLX polo
Gee our ran was enchanted Demonstrator Your tongues knotted up like soto
Tool belt wearing I’m a mechanic In linen and gator But on the low tho
13. NINE SPRAY feat . KA
(produced by RAY WEST)

Dust these Niggas the fuck off real quick Fuck a bank statement And that is when parcel arrives
My Mind Spray I got over a hundred k in my basement We get cake, bake slay proportional size
My Nine Spray.. You formal is basic Strangle a human angle with monstrous lines
Paying layaway on a bracelet We be straight if we ate
Outlaw lifestyle, I’m raw no Lifestyles You repair I replace shit We be harsh with the nines
Fly whores get piped down You a chair, im a spaceship My body heal faster
My sores get iced down, I’m like Al You shed a tear out of sheer hatred Than the scars in my mind
The K put you out the game like five fouls But to get here more than skill Sour grapes for papes
You outta bounds, im outta town Takes patience Now I’m regarded as wine
Running with hounds Ill natured, golden age reels feels ancient Liquid scroll which nip is cold sip it slow
Dumping the cal, kick up a dust cloud Motion picture rap, we like filmmakers He more type righteous
The gun is rust brown Recite with a wicked flow
Its a oldie but a goodie My Nine Spray This is cream talk
I’m looking like Goldie in a hoodie My Mind Spray Climbing a bean stalk
Rose gold Rollie, Tek nines loaded up fully My Mind Spray Team trying find green giant
Shells fly, open you like pussy My Nine Spray Outta clean thought
I slide in ya, skin an injun, Pull myth full clip load that
Blacked down like a ninja, for legal tender (KA) We keep it cooking
Chrome Desert Eagle bend ya Gems by division, sums how I’m living Looking for the golden egg
Ten sends ya like street vendor They slum with these comforters Shots sound somebody pops shot down
Cook your meat beef get tender To numb that I give em Man folded
No apron, thirty eight shave you like bacon To get my weight like an eight Another ran holding a hot pound
And get shanked in them staircases Hung with the Gibbens Split em back
Trying to pitch, gotta run the bases Some Narc in the park Dying slow living rapid
Bottom bitch keep flooding papers Get crumbs with the pigeons Triggers blasting
My aces got cut faces Wanna squall Need of passion
Raw flesh, gotta cut and paste it Bullets get lobbed and go to my job But niggas lacked it
Butter loaf in the oven, bake it On the strip, running shit When beef boil
Nothing sacred, touch cak When you couldn’t have jogged You need feel a bullet or recoil
Niggas wanna come and taste it Cops, sheriffs, marshals despise I’m dressin like a peasant but the speech royal
You get stripped buck naked They watch for errors
14. EMERALDS
(produced by ARCH DRUIDS)

Word, niggas already know the While I get a pen and pad to print this Fall beneath us
motherfucking resume Then slide nine inches People need to see the uniqueness
straight up and down, man In your empress with the quickness Speak your mind like telekinesis
Rider shit, Terrace Ave. nigga, It ran through quicker than wind sprints Stay in reefers
Hempstead, motherfucker, LI You a by-product Watching pelicans on beaches
Stand the fuck up The guys that grind and buy product Slide long knee meat deep
Moss nigga Black cards lie inside Prada wallets In Georgia peaches
Fuck them niggas know about it? Black cars glide like flying carpets Them whores
Nothing! Faggot, wish I would The forty lay you out like a starfish be the source of your weakness
If I catch one of you niggas man I’m doing God’s work in the booth I take broads do what I see fit
Y’all niggas know man This was Allah’s wish Break laws
Pussy niggas, disgusted! I put a skirt on the coupe, squirt thirty twos Money grip thick like Queen Pen
that will burn you to soup, motherfucker Rolex the gleam when my sleeve in
I got Lamborghini dreams My enemies, knee bend
Nissan nightmares CHORUS My team win, you bleed then
Moving white, my ice is cool as the night air Light one up Feel the reaper creep in, a brief win
Two fives flare Feds might run up The breeze bring a freeze to your skin
A glare through your Cartier eyewear They might want us Squeeze three let you BM
Then knock your newborn Henny on ice in my styrofoam cup Til your meat spin
Out of the highchair Dimes get fucked You hanging on by a thin tree limb
Divide and tear, slice em by the hair like pear Lames with the nine get stuck Cock weapons and pop
They pray I share fruit that I bare Get cake and glide in the truck The specimens with elegance
I get nectarine in the Beam These are emeralds, only generals resemble Metal wrench your wig let it settle in
I steam a whole seventeen Throwing up signs and symbols Your head been turning to gelatin
Brolic chain, chunk, cheddar cheese I ride with gentlemen
Spray up chumps, tecs jam like Heavy D I’m just a pawn on a chessboard Hollow tops fly thru your melanin
Hoes lay bread on me like deli meat I move pieces Cocksucker, word up!
That’s pimpish On squares like Louis sneakers
Pass the mac ten to my apprentice Police just gotta burn them off like leeches (CHORUS)
15. THE MAN
(produced by ROC MARCIANO)

I turn my pain into power I won’t nail nothing less than a bombshell Puffing L’s, big gun by the underwear
Back in the days Respect is the cornerstone Just in case you was unaware
Put the flame to the powder Bum niggas can’t afford those clothes I’m still the motherfucking man
My lady waited on the counter with the towel The four four’s come with the long nose
While I sang her Rick James Call it Ginobili, you real niggas show me A new chapter, a new Aston
Bang her in the shower I’m from a better cut of cashmere The ghost call it Casper
My folks is dependent on me A plethora, the vest shed cat hair The chain is Alaska
I wish you could see my vision Jaguar jacket, scratch the catnip The fact that my kicks is suede
Through the tinted Carty’s Black pimp, you bypass fat lip Became a factor
Women and liquor for the army Deep rooted the pea shoot it I’m rolling hash with my current hoes
As for the car bitch, this is a Ferrari The fact that I’m G can’t be disputed Sniff the crisp moulin off the envelope
The best persevere, Speak foolish, you could leak fluid Smooth game, shea butter soap
I start my verse when the check clear Bust his chest wide open Two hundred case, straight butter loaf
I spark purp, silk shirt You could see through it Three hoes trying to rape a nigga
Half open with the chest hair I’m fixated on a greater figure - money
Mind blowing sex CHORUS I scoped the bitch with
With the cognac breath Always had a pact The greater figure - body
A five star spread from the chef For a way to get a stack Because I’m a grade A nigga
Never been a hater Hustling these young niggas Paint the picture with a steady hand
I don’t give a fuck enough Living in a shack Same way I hold a forty, blow twenty grand
Besides that here shit’s on the up and up Running with the pack Half naked when they tastefully bellydance
I got wind to betrayal Pull a level off your back I bet that pussy taste like a cherry champ
I grabbed a big piece of shrimp by the tail Crisp New Era, with the Timbs all black
Switched the cell Hanging in the lobby with the clique (CHORUS)
Bitches on a nigga trail We some knuckleheads
Executive Produced by Roc Marciano and The Alchemist
A&R: Animoss and Don Chalant
Mastered by Joe LaPorta at The Lodge
Art Direction by Peter Bittenbender and Hectah
Artwork by Hectah
Layout by Alex Rodriguez
Photography by Angela Boatwright

Roc Marciano: Marcyrock Music (ASCAP)

The Alchemist: A. Maman Music (ASCAP) @ROCMARCI
Q-Tip: Jazz Merchant Music (ASCAP) @DECON
KA: Seek Truth Publishing (BMI) DECONRECORDS.COM
Knowledge the Pirate: Pirate Knowledge 7 Music (BMI) DCN168
Ray West: 101parkmusic (ASCAP)
The Arch Druids: En Passant Productions (ASCAP)