1000 Deaths by Roc Marciano Lyrics
[Verse 1]
Hopped out the Sprinter in the dead of the winter
Wit' hella niggas
The beef never settle, we let it simmer
My bitch a real head spinner
I mean ever since I put lead in the members of your clique, they quit messin' with us
My sex drive ride like an S5
Check the finesse drive
This is as simple as connect-the-dots
"Get the hell out of Dodge," said the cops
You got hip-hop in the head lock
She foamin' at the mouth
Greenlight them niggas, open house
Molotov cocktail, might have to smoke 'em out, no doubt (uh, no doubt, nigga)
Six million ways to die, choose a couple
Brothers busting at your bubble goose
Way down in Moose Knuckle
Slipped once, oops
But the move was subtle
The new uzi come with the muzzle
I think "What Would Rosebudd Do?"
Tipped the crown
Flooded it with colored gems, fuck it
One less thing scratched off the bucket list
Y'all been put on notice
Niggas, we on it
No homo–I don't love Makonnen
Shit ain't changed, you know the game
Money, hoes, clothin'
It's all golden
I'm still walking on roses
Uh
Late sessions with my therapist, forever pissed
We was left for dead with no inheritance
The only heirlooms passed down to the ghetto kids was metal
That's the same weapon that Bob shot the sheriff with, uh
[Hook]
All I wanted was some finer things
Bad bitches just scream my name
Big chains, diamond rings, and cars
I bet you didn't that I'd go far
Baby, this is how the story goes
We was taught to hustle, this is all we know
Squeeze fifth, did it all for the cash
Bet you ain't never did no shit like that
Never in yo' fuckin' life
So fuck it, ya'll niggas some big, big L7's, man
Ya' dig? Boss, nigga
[Verse 2]
We built this from the ground up, kiddo
This a kilo on my earlobe
For real though, y'all some weirdos
Ferragamos with the clear souls
The new TEC-22 with the air holes
Gotta be prepared, holmes
Baby, I'm a head case
This a leg race
So many Cuban chains I'm runnin' out of neck space, uh
You not a blip on the god radar
Fuck an A&R, I can do way more with an AR
Extended clip on the K look like a space bar, quasar
Don't make me have to pull it like the race card, uh
So don't you ever test my patience
For the drama I been waitin'
I left a couple shell cases
Hopped out the Sprinter in the dead of the winter
Wit' hella niggas
The beef never settle, we let it simmer
My bitch a real head spinner
I mean ever since I put lead in the members of your clique, they quit messin' with us
My sex drive ride like an S5
Check the finesse drive
This is as simple as connect-the-dots
"Get the hell out of Dodge," said the cops
You got hip-hop in the head lock
She foamin' at the mouth
Greenlight them niggas, open house
Molotov cocktail, might have to smoke 'em out, no doubt (uh, no doubt, nigga)
Six million ways to die, choose a couple
Brothers busting at your bubble goose
Way down in Moose Knuckle
Slipped once, oops
But the move was subtle
The new uzi come with the muzzle
I think "What Would Rosebudd Do?"
Tipped the crown
Flooded it with colored gems, fuck it
One less thing scratched off the bucket list
Y'all been put on notice
Niggas, we on it
No homo–I don't love Makonnen
Shit ain't changed, you know the game
Money, hoes, clothin'
It's all golden
I'm still walking on roses
Uh
Late sessions with my therapist, forever pissed
We was left for dead with no inheritance
The only heirlooms passed down to the ghetto kids was metal
That's the same weapon that Bob shot the sheriff with, uh
[Hook]
All I wanted was some finer things
Bad bitches just scream my name
Big chains, diamond rings, and cars
I bet you didn't that I'd go far
Baby, this is how the story goes
We was taught to hustle, this is all we know
Squeeze fifth, did it all for the cash
Bet you ain't never did no shit like that
Never in yo' fuckin' life
So fuck it, ya'll niggas some big, big L7's, man
Ya' dig? Boss, nigga
[Verse 2]
We built this from the ground up, kiddo
This a kilo on my earlobe
For real though, y'all some weirdos
Ferragamos with the clear souls
The new TEC-22 with the air holes
Gotta be prepared, holmes
Baby, I'm a head case
This a leg race
So many Cuban chains I'm runnin' out of neck space, uh
You not a blip on the god radar
Fuck an A&R, I can do way more with an AR
Extended clip on the K look like a space bar, quasar
Don't make me have to pull it like the race card, uh
So don't you ever test my patience
For the drama I been waitin'
I left a couple shell cases