The Horse’s Mouth Roc Marciano
On this page, discover the full lyrics of the song "The Horse’s Mouth" by Roc Marciano. Lyrxo.com offers the most comprehensive and accurate lyrics, helping you connect with the music you love on a deeper level. Ideal for dedicated fans and anyone who appreciates quality music.
[Verse]
Uh
Kicked up so much dust as a young pup
No wonder motherfuckers still slingin' mud
I ain't high off weed but I'm being blunt (being blunt)
My ice might give the kid freezer burn
I see you out here freezin' like a bum eatin' out the dump
I'm the illest out the bunch
The butterfly was a caterpillar once (uh)
Son, if it's love, then why bring it up like a grudge? (uh)
Niggas blood drunk but, nah, I ain't spiked the punch, son (no)
Nice with the pump, I'm live as Spice-1
Your writin' need to be spiced up some, uh
(you know what I'm saying, you need to spice that up, son)
Niggas bitin', this is invitin' to the tongue
Albino tiger rug
I pipe sluts as the vinyl spun
The nine come with the motorcycle gloves
Put you to sleep you be nice and snug
The night was young
I still come and put out your lightbulb (uh)
The tip of the pipe was bright like a lightnin' bolt (pop, pop, pop, pop)
Uh
Cut from a good stock
The pockets got more bands than booked for Woodstock
The product's either good or it's not (good or it's not)
The chopper with the wood on the side
That's for style (yeah)
You still a child
You need to climb down from the treehouse
Still even then, we not playin' on even ground
Uh
The triple beam ain't evenin' out
Korean drum it hold fifty looking like Mickey Mouse
Without the smile (ow)
(Marc, baby)
Uh
Kicked up so much dust as a young pup
No wonder motherfuckers still slingin' mud
I ain't high off weed but I'm being blunt (being blunt)
My ice might give the kid freezer burn
I see you out here freezin' like a bum eatin' out the dump
I'm the illest out the bunch
The butterfly was a caterpillar once (uh)
Son, if it's love, then why bring it up like a grudge? (uh)
Niggas blood drunk but, nah, I ain't spiked the punch, son (no)
Nice with the pump, I'm live as Spice-1
Your writin' need to be spiced up some, uh
(you know what I'm saying, you need to spice that up, son)
Niggas bitin', this is invitin' to the tongue
Albino tiger rug
I pipe sluts as the vinyl spun
The nine come with the motorcycle gloves
Put you to sleep you be nice and snug
The night was young
I still come and put out your lightbulb (uh)
The tip of the pipe was bright like a lightnin' bolt (pop, pop, pop, pop)
Uh
Cut from a good stock
The pockets got more bands than booked for Woodstock
The product's either good or it's not (good or it's not)
The chopper with the wood on the side
That's for style (yeah)
You still a child
You need to climb down from the treehouse
Still even then, we not playin' on even ground
Uh
The triple beam ain't evenin' out
Korean drum it hold fifty looking like Mickey Mouse
Without the smile (ow)
(Marc, baby)
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