Panic Roc Marciano

[Produced by Roc Marciano]

[Hook]
I can feel it when the wind blow
In the Benzo hangin' out the window
You know nigga how the shit goes
Get a hundred from the hip bone

[Verse 1: Roc Marciano]
True G's, boots and army fatigues
Niggas cooped up in the P's like sardines
Ain't no palm trees, and this ain't R and B
We sippin Dom P listenin' to Ron G
Nigga we rep the far east, spark the beef like a cookout
It won't digest correct, no di-doubt
I put my foot down in any event and kick a dent
Then stick a pen in your blimp, now witness the strength
Til I whip in a bent, my dogs gon' pick up a scent
And this isn't French, but niggas have to kiss the ring
And momma said there would be days like this
And if pussy taste like fish don't give her no dick
Clock a grip, watch a clip, friends and biz don't mix
And the big gold ring got the Flintstone bling
Wrist glow pink gold fat like the disco three
For real it's like my shit don't stink