Songtext Skirt steak Roc Marciano

Skirt steak

Uh, Pimpstead
Uh, Pimpire
Yeah

Shit ain't never been sweet
Even though we in the penthouse suite
These niggas ain't bout it, the game crowded like Canal Street (Uh)
Might need to street sweep
Wipe down the V, I need it squeaky clean
Spider V, Alexander McQueen (Peep)
Sneaky links, I'ma creep
Ride with the shotty beside me, that's my side piece
Only do pump and dumps, I got a wifey
Lil' fiery thing (Fiery), with the lime green bean
When you was thinkin' that everything's irie
More than likely it's diabetes type 3 (Woo)
It ain't what I'm drivin', it's what's drivin' me (Know that)
You can't buy it or caption on IG (No)
Can't put getting nice before hygiene
Why all this YSL and Moncler if you got algae teeth?
Uh, smile for me
These words got weight, this is worth the wait
Back when I was purchasing weight, was one verse away
From skirt steak or being burnt at the stake (Uh)
Speak my name in a certain way, enter them pearly gates
Courtesy of my rusted .38
It's a dirty game
These niggas ain't sturdy as they claim (Not even close)
Like James Worthy, let my jersey hang
Curvy thing with the plastic surgery face
Had to pump the emergency brakes
Hurry and wait
The early bird deserves the worm we ate
As for the prey, what awaits is an early grave
Every verse I laid is pain

In all of his moods, there's something really incredible
Which is expressed through instruments
The capacity to, to create a mood for, uh, for anyone
Doesn't matter if you're playing in a club, if you're playing in a mall
If you're playing in the streets or a carnival, you create (Every verse I laid is pain)