Roc Marciano - It's A Crime lyrics

[Verse 1] I got my eyes on you Pies are ordered. Lines are snorted, eyes watered Got source wit 5's and the quarters hittin ya'll corners Risin' on 'em like high waters My supporters is side call 'em Hold, steady eye ballin Coke wit the Arm & Hammer near the pot boiling Colt .45, 9 Taurus Cops is on us. n***as out kickin' up top soil Two Glocks on 'em, we're now warrin' Five Warrens, ride foreign, car soarin' My performance, we steal em', ya'll brought em' See da seal and start peeling like an orange My appearance is not syrup You starin', while I'm steering the McLaren Like hard castle and Mccormicks You prolly corded, if not recorded My eyes soarin' like Dionne Warwick You lie dormant, let the who*es in for us Young Cummares like Don Pores Ar de pora. Hoes offer to drink my urine It's 'cern that I'm stern The fur got ya b**h kitten purrin' It's like I'm pimpin' and servin' once the dicks inserted She turned to a whole different person Dig in purses. Image worship That's like our church is You can tell I'm a pimp by how my shirt fit [Hook] Keep it open like the zipper broken Sit low up in the nickel loaded Wit' da pistol loaded... Doin' crime all the time Doin crime all the time Doin crime all the time [Verse 2] Clutchin' the tech, bustin ya head Know when you're f**in' wit' me, your f**in' wit da best Cuttin' ya neck, blood on the deck Just give a hunned percent Shouldn't expect nuttin' less Gun is kept under the sweats When I'm done stuffin' ya chest, nothin' is left Ya underdressed, run to the nest, cover ya breasts Mumblin, stressed, under ya breath Money to get, 20's and 10's Luxury benz, bu*tery timbs wit' da vest Skully. Truthfully I'mma bully My ex said I was a mess yet very tastefully dressed If I must say so myself. It's like I'm layin wealth Bathin in silk. Gator on hat, shoes, and the belt What else? Food in the velt. What else? Food in the stare you chewed like a meal Eludin the ville, removed out the will 2 is Ca**ille, the mood is Brazil Shootin' to k**, you dudes hit da grill n***as is food for real troops, still In the ville, I'm in a deville, in the field, you pushin' up daffodils Laughin' still. I'm blowin I'm wearin rose gold, chromey out the coat, pokin' [Hook] Uh, straight G sh** Shout out to my physical bliss [Production by Roc Marciano]