Roc Marciano Tek to a Mack Lyrics

Reloaded Track Listing
CD 1
  • 1 Tek to a Mack
  • 2 Flash Gordon
  • 3 Not Told
  • 4 Pistolier
  • 5 Thugs Prayer, Part 2
  • 6 76
  • 7 We Ill
  • 8 Deeper
  • 9 Death Parade
  • 10 20 Guns
  • 11 Peru
  • 12 Thread Count
  • 13 Nine Spray
  • 14 Emeralds
  • 15 The Man
  • [INTRO]
    Yeah, check, Marc
    Back for the crown baby
    AV that’s brown like gravy
    Style is wavy
    Lazy eye Tracy McGrady
    Deliver like an 80 pound baby
    I’m a horse, you a rope
    I let off Macks
    You crap in your clothing
    Golden moments
    Rolls Royce driver named Coleman
    45 watch game frozen
    Scared to death
    Mad salty like a potato chip
    You know the routine
    I’m out to break a bitch
    Over the stove with the bakers mitt
    I’m still on that gangsta shit
    Burning that dour
    European footwear
    I’m coming off a real good year
    Kush in the air
    Them niggas like books, Look square
    I swear they don’t even got hood flare
    I’m a natural, You little rascal
    Homo swag, I wouldn’t put it past you
    Changes invested, faith’s tested
    I paid for the necklace and ate breakfast
    My thoughts is pour torches left corpses
    My chariot pulled by horses
    Ya’ll doo-doo, I’ll sock it to you
    Pierce your rib with the spear like Shaka Zulu
    Cops pursue you
    When you got pies like Lu Lu
    Control a whore’s mind like voodoo
    Suave, CL 5 grey in the driveways
    Ménage à trois on Fridays
    Peel bills consistent
    And just to think I willed this into existence
    Memories of being broke are now distant
    I insisted biscuits
    For all that I did to get rich then
    I hope within you forgive the kid like a
    To get rich then, I hope within
    You forgive the kid like a

    From the deuce to the tre
    From a tre to an eighth
    From an A to a K to a 9 from a K
    From a K to the grey, 45 all black
    All black 45, from a tec to a mac

    Big dinners, dilemmas
    I ride in a Plymouth
    Listening to the Spinners
    I love the art but it’s a business
    D’s trying to pin us
    Cause what I do with the pen is stupendous
    Young niggas look up to us like father figures
    Design fly rhymes like architecture
    Modern philosopher
    The feds trying to pop at us
    But ya’ll ain’t got the proper size nuts
    Line me up without the iron cuff
    Reclined in the truck
    My mind like a diamond in the rough
    Apply the cut gotta come up
    Got to sit tough, Chronic is puff
    Wallets is buff, I’m a stud
    Dollars is spotted with blood
    The nine snub
    Should hold you out with thugs
    You forgot what it was, huh?
    Well bitch that’s what is though
    Pitch em an O Lou Ferrigno, indo
    Flowed out the benz
    Tinted windows
    Pimp bones
    Exotic skin tones
    Ear lobes flooded with gem stones
    Money put in a hoes flip ten folds
    Gotta stack it
    Ya squad is at the bottom of the bracket
    That’s why I keep the llama in the bomber
    That’ll push yo whole yarmulke backwards

    From the deuce to the tre
    From a tre to an eighth
    From an A to a K to a 9 from a K
    From a K to the grey, 45 all black
    All black 45, from a tec to a mac

    Gangsta Mack. Back.

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