[Intro: Roc Marciano]

Uh, Pimpstead

Uh, Pimpire

Yeah

[Verse: Roc Marciano]

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 Y-3 if you gotta hide your 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

[Outro: Roc Marciano]

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)