Consigliere Roc Marciano

[Intro: Roc Marciano]

[Verse 1: Roc Marciano]
This shit ain't rocket science
I rock the Greg Laurens like a rock climber
The stars lined up
You got lined up
I heard it through the grapevine
That the barber getting lined up
Niggas not even cut from what I'm from
Fuck it
Be up front
The Mase white
Seat's peanut punch
We the clean-up bunch
Pull your jeans up for once
The game don't come with a gun like it's Duck Hunt
You got fucked in the butt
That's on the low like a buzz cut
Jealous of you for what
Why would I give two fucks
You ain't got shit I want
I'm the one
I'm narcotics
I come bottled up
I'm a hard act to follow blood
You can't catch no hommos with that hollow gun
I dare you monkeys to try one more stunt
You might need a raincheck
The chain is a pain in the neck
The tre 80 is Mr Potato Head
You bled three different shades of red
That's what the painter said
Read the disclaimer before you skate ahead
Rub your name out with the eraser head
No trace of the dead, just a JPEG
That they can place on the web