The Man - Roc Marciano

Whoo!

«Shit loud nigga, not the music nigga the weed

But anyway, know what I’m saying

I could recall the last time I uhh… You know I uh

Knocked a nigga for his hoe man, you know

So I go get a nigga a bag of Nachos, He’s like «what's the nachos for?

«Nigga, cus it’s not yo' hoe no moe'»

I turn my pain into power

Back in the days put the flame to the powder

My lady waited on the counter with a towel

While I sang a Rick James banger in the shower

My folks is dependent on me

I wish you could see my vision through them tinted Cartiers

Women and liquor for the army

As for the car, bitch, this is a Ferrari

The best persevere

I start my verse when the check clear

I spark purp, silk shirt

Half open with the chest hair

Mind blowin' sex with the cognac breath

Five star spread from the chef

Never been a hater, I don’t give a fuck enough

Besides that, here shits on the up and up

I got wind of betrayal

I grab a big piece of shrimp by the tail

Switch the cell, bitches on a nigga trail

I won’t nail nothing less than a bombshell

Respect is the corner stone, bum niggas can’t afford those clothes

The four-four is chrome with the long nose

Call it Ginobili, your real nigga show me

I’m from a better cut of cashmere

A plethra, the vest shed cat hair

Jaguar jacket, scratch the catnip

Black pimp, you bypass fat lip

Deep rooted, the piece shooted

The fact that I’m G can’t be disputed

Speak foolish, you can leak fluid

Bust his chest wide open, you can see through it

Always a had a pack for a way to get a stack

Hustlin' this young niggas livin' in the shack

Runnin' with the pack pull level off your back

Crisp new era with the timbs all black

Hangin' in the lobby with the clique with some knuckleheads

Puffin' L’s big gun by the underwear

Just in case you was unaware

I’m still a motherfucking man

A new chapter

A new Aston, the ghost, call it Casper

The chain is Alaska

The fact that my kicks is suede became a factor

I’m rollin' hash with my current hoes

Sniff the Chris Mullin off the envelope

Smooth game, shaved butter soap

200k straight butter loaf

Three hoes tryna rape a nigga

I’m fixated on a greater figure (money)

I scooped the bitch with the greater figure (body)

Cause I’m a grade A nigga

Paint the picture with a steady hand

Same way I hold the 40, blow 20 grand

Half naked woman tastefully, a belly dance

I bet that pussy taste like a cherry champ

Always a had a pack for a way to get a stack

Hustlin' this young niggas livin' in the shack

Runnin' with the pack pull level off your back

Crisp new era with the timbs all black

Hangin' in the lobby with the clique with some knuckleheads

Puffin' L’s big gun by the underwear

Just in case you was unaware

I’m still a motherfucking man