Roc Marciano - Amethyst Lyrics

[Verse 1]Let's goOlive green Bally windbreaker to wet my taste budsY'all hatin' niggas praying for table crumbsDamn, ya'll looking bad, y'all might be mistaken for bumsMy first thought was to put some spare change in your cupHere's a blanket, least you'll be covered upI'm becomin' numbI don't feel the love at night, I hug my gunsMight touch you with the same razor I use to cut my drugsHomie, these blades ain't made for shavin', son (Nah)The snub is stainless, the yay is white like Shia LaBeouf, I weighed itLiposucked the plug, left 'em weightlessNiggas on the waitin' list, look at your grayed-up wigWhat is that, a wave kit? Listen, baby, don't shake the shipStill, they assist, shit's scaring away the fishI'm a playaSon, I'm just sitting here sharing game with pimpsBitch tried to throw a big monkey wrench in my Benz ventI find it interestin' I was chillin' just when they thought the engine wentI still did it big (did it big)Pick of the litter but no kittens hereI'm like Huey Newton sitting in the king's wicker chair with the pistol nearMy face is chiseled in the silverware with care (uh)Spilling Belaire on the thread I wear, I'm a threat out hereYou better not let the cat out for air, yeahUh, I'm a threat out hereYou better not let the cat out for air, yeah[Hook]I've been high and lowIt's gotten simpleOne thing I always knowDon't let myself go (stay on my shit, Marc)Y'all stay sleep; you only dreamin'That's why I'll never lose (yeah)I keep my gun close (Ooh, uh, come on, keep it)Screamin' fuck the other side (fuck them niggas, yeah)Ain't no love, it's us aliveAs long as you don't fuck with my dime, dime[Verse 2]Uh, uh, always had a scheme to get by, in the cream FILA for them green guysTrue indeed, I might eavesdrop at the cheeba spotWhen I'm in need of guwop with the fake beard like ZZ TopYour bitch in the V with me, it's easy topStop, don't get your zucchini poppedI disappear like Houdini, Ma, in the blue DB9It's moving easy, right?Dreamy like CGI, uhUp in the Babylon, caught one in the arm like Al Pacino, why did I have cappuccino?Fifty shot clip in the drum, no need to reloadFrontin' like I won't come and pop one in your knee bone, uhI lied, I'm not a pimp, I'm more like a mackThe gun's worn in the small of my backWash the money from the raw off at the laundromat, it's the format, uhThe Range Rover Sport all blackI'm all that, the whole ball of waxFor the bag, I give you one where you store the most fatShot lil' mama in the assPap