Roc Marciano - Fabio Lyrics

[Intro: Fillmore Slim]She said, uh, "I wanna go wit' ya"This the part I ain't understandI said, "What ya mean, ya wanna go wit' ya?""I wanna be-I wan-I wan-I wanna be-I wanna be ya woman," ya know?I said, "What ya do?"She said, "I go to bed wit' men for money."Ya know, I'm just a musician, I don't, I don't, [stuttering], as a blues singerI don't know what she talkin' about, I'm green to all thatShe said, "I wanna go to bed wit' ya. I go to bed wit' men for money."I said, "What dat is?" Ya know?She said, "I have sex wit' 'em."I said, "Where's ya husband?"She said, "I don't have no husband."Ya know?I said, "Well, uh.""But I wanna go wit' you."So then the fellas in the van, they just kinda just, "Man, we, you can't take her back to Los Angeles wit' you, man. We ain't got no room for her."And I looked at my pockets, I said, "Yeah, we gon' have room for this woman. We gon' take her back and one o' y'all got to catch the bus."[Verse 1: Roc Marciano]Yo, uh, nobody's perfect but I'm close (I'm close)I can't be cloned when I was made after they broke the mold (break it)It was written in stone (stone)I'm brilliant, just peep what I did with the stove (look)Uh, your skin'll get cold, I'm killin' shit, I'll never get parole (never)Uh, holmes, we got different roles, I chose the forbidden road (the forbidden road)All I had was the toast in my signature Rolls (mmm)Still got it poppin' though, this my Picasso, hoePop the top, your brains on the side of the road look like a taco bowl (woah)I dipped off in the yacht, this one of Chapo's boats (wooh!)My hair was blowin' in the wind like Fabio's (haha, uhhh adios)The Maserati I drove this like the one that John Gotti owned (Gotti owned)If I'm ridin' with wifey, it's probably the Ghost (probably)Lil' mami beside me fly, she's from the Ivory Coast (facts)Uh, I carved a lane out for myself (for myself)As for the yay, you can't weigh, it'll break the scaleI came to came with the tale, Alexander Wang made the alligator belt (ow)These no-talent rappers is fabricatin' tales, uh (get 'em, baby)Hawaiian top so fly I might skydiveI might throw a lightnin' rod cause I'm a god (cause I'm a god)Strike you down in the street like a dog (wooh, dog)Burn an incense (burn a incense)Burnin' some Cadenzas first with German enginesLearn the bidness, new crib with one word: it's expensiveI might only furnish the place with bitches (yeah)Know what I'm sayin'? I'ma put one over there, I'm a put a bitch over thereI'ma sit on another bitch like a chairKnow what I'm sayin'?[Sampled Dialogue: Voice 1 and Voice 2]"No, sit down, sit down. Hundred thousand a month. Hundred thousand. Never took a dime from the top(This shit ain't about nothin' though)And you seem to respect my, uh, my policy on drugs. They died!""Yeah, I've done that."[Verse 2: Roc Marciano]Uh, AlchemistUh, shots of RumHaven, son was sunbathin'Fundraisin', we some gunslingers, niggas pump fakin'You chumps hatin' from the jump babyWe can run the fadeAnd fuck waitin'I've been stayin' patient where the love's vacantFacin' drug cases, nothin's sacred, we don't touch bacon (no)Take your bucks, duct tape 'em, homo thugs, butt rape 'em (uh)Lace the blunt with dust, butt naked, couple cuts from Jacob's (uh, Jacobs)Got the summer shakin', bitches love gangstas, slug cases on the rugsThe walls is like blood paintin's, check the ring and wrist, you bumThis shit a flood, ain't it? (uh)I pull up and hit you in the mug, playa with the butt of the rusty banger (uh)You must be feeling lucky you try and play us (uh)I'm somethin' special, the dress who got extra layers (layers)Hoes devil suits, expect for you to do sexual favorsThis is level two, the pebbles got etched with my favorite bevel razorI'm a vessel/vassal, mess with my paper, heifers'll pepper spray your retinasAll you seen was just redness (redness)I watched from the TV set in the headrest in the cherry LexusThis ain't a Tesla, but it's electricSon, I finessed it like StedmanSon, need some big Giuseppes, tryna step inUh, son, some big Giuseppes, tryna step in[Outro: Roc Marciano]Uh, that's a fact, it ain't knownI'm that nigga ain't no if's, and's, orMight scoop your whore if she bad and justCop the new Lam or Wraith, I'm thinkin'Uh, I'm thinking, yeah