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letra de no smoke - roc marciano

[intro: knowledge the pirate]
i dream of jeannie in that hermès bikini
listen, yo
yo

[verse 1: knowledge the pirate]
i dream of jeannie in that hermès bikini
drivin’ in aventador lamborghini
somewhere in fiji, sippin’ mojitos and martinis
while trump tweetin’ quotes from mussolini
sh-t i’m trying to raise my kundalini
we all about our chicken and that fettuccine
my jeans are dsquared, my shoes are buscemi
son was, chewing zucchini, eating linguine
sh-t got, hot and steamy
send shots to his beanie
i’m from a block where they watching the schemin’
plottin’ and squattin’, with the chopper then squeeze it
let it fly then disappear like houdini
past the crime scene make sure his food was finished
found his body laid on 129 and lenox
them hittas was out of town let ’em know who did it
(man them n-ggas come from ot)
a far throw, that’s where his soul was sentenced
(f-ckin’ lame -ss n-gga)
the n-gga fold ’cause he told on his codefendant
(word boy, that n-gga outta here man)
he broke code when he told on his codefendant

[verse 2: roc marciano]
gold frames and gold chains, you chump change
changin’ lanes in the mulsanne
i’m smooth like suede, your real estate sprayed like a shootin’ range
i got shooters for days, ain’t nothing new i’m still doin’ thangs
i still clean my jewelry with toothpaste
drivebys in taurus sho
silent murders with the crossbow (mmmmm)
might blow this whole elbow, you f-ckin’ wit me? h-ll no
rain hail snow, i smell like c0ke
might drop in ammo belts and coats
kel-tec’s held close
the colt 40 got the elephant nose
you already know how the other sh-t goes
that’s my word, these proverbs
n-ggas waitin’ on my return, i had some time to burn
what’s a broken promise worth? these are honest words
momma i’m just tryna earn a dime to calm my nerves
flyin’ spurs swerve, all kind of furs
where drive-bys occur, watch pies get turned
the flyest bird, you must be high on sherm
you got nerve, they might have to buy you a iron shirt (woo!)
(can’t f-ck with me boy, f-ck outta here bum -ss)
my b-tch a white fox, go get your shinebox (go get it)
you ridin’ or not? i have ya body tied in a knot
bacardi limon on the rocks
diamonds all on the watch
you ain’t got the chops to trade shots
the chopper weigh a lot, the tripod keep it stabilized
dudes paying with your lives
to spray you is just a favor to the gods

[outro – roc marciano]
sacrifice you n-gga
take you to the altar n-gga
drop you in a volcano b-tch, got me packin’ my bag
yeah, all that good sh-t
light yo’ -ss up, boy

- roc marciano

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