Sampson & Delilah Roc Marciano

[Intro]
Uh, uh, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, boy
Marc, baby
Shoutout my nigga Murder Markel
Uh, uh

[Verse 1]
The clip under the tool look like a half moon, uh
I'm not Cube, but we some Niggas With Attitudes
These rap dudes’ food not palatable, might need a talent boost
The challenge is bullet proof, my jewelry drippin' like pussy juice (ooh)
Good, you made you some loot, whoopty doo (whoopty doo nigga)
Wanna cookie, sucker, can't whoop me (nah)
If I was you, then mad at me I would be too, wood only 22
Get money, sonny, monkey see, monkey do
Of your nice new honeymoon
Let’s skip the small talk like it's Sunday school (skip that)
I'd rather sunbathe, get paid a hundred ways, I'm playing a numbers game (uh)
I take your little lunch change, son, pump the breaks
Dump the body, the Maserati in need of trunk space (facts)
I'm soaking up game like a sponge cake (uh)
You waitin' for crumbs to fall off of one's plate (uh)
I just might be the nicest ever
The way I bite your head off remind you of that Mike Tyson era
Fuck who you like better, I light up your sweater
And throw some ice all in the side of the Sky Dweller, fella