Roc Marciano - Rosebudd's Revenge lyrics

[Verse 1] We doubled up While them younger s*uts play double dutch My new Mac 11 came with the muzzle on the front n***a this ain't no front My taste buds trump your flavor of the month Rappers can't f** with me you can't name one I paid a lump, the table spun I dip my blunt in angel dust The gauge pump, turn your brain to mush The slug'll make your potato bust Imagine what that Draco does Give you a halo, while i'm sniffin' yayo off of J-Lo bu*t It made a playa face go numb Beefin' with me and mine'll lead to E.Coli You're not bonafide, them hoes I just bone and slide I had a moment, sky open You not potent, ibuprofen This is h**n that brown Not that yellow sh** they steppin' all over it If you look close you can see the Louis loafer print Some n***a put his toes in this sh** No sh**, it's over wit' Ho this is showmanship Shootouts with foes, yo lord hold up, I think my shoulder hit [Interlude] Think I'm hit n***a, sh** Say word, you caught one lord? Let me see That's a shoulder wound my n***a, sh** went straight through, you good Let's go [Chorus] Get back Don't think you can't get cli-dapped where you livin' at Fast, I put a n***a in a trick bag And send you to yo' momma gift-wrapped That's where I'm at, we gon' k** your a** How real is that? How real is that? Get 'em back [Verse 2] Feast or famine I'm by the sea tannin' Female companion speaking Mandarin You get a glimpse of me the freaks is clamorin' I'm in Miami wearing your rent on a pair of kicks And that depend on where you live I'm thinking somewhere near the Calvin Klein underwear heir Fresh to d**h, they thought a n***a slept in Tupperware This the upper tier, this for the puppeteers Run your career with just the muscles in my hand Might even push your sh** back but I don't cut hair Peel with the toast, melt just like a f**ing bu*ter square You ain't nothing but a square you bum You just here s**ing up air My right hand steer like Duh Duh Man I'm good money, lil' buddy I'm no Huggie Bear I have you in Huggies just like the ones a pet monkey wear f** outta here You a college kid, we share no common thread This sh** Prada not Doma brand I'm just sayin' No disrespect, this sh** just cost a lot of bread I'm on your head [Chorus] Get back Don't think you can't get cli-dapped where you livin' at Fast, I put a n***a in a trick bag And send you to yo' momma gift-wrapped That's where I'm at, we gon' k** your a** How real is that? How real is that? Get 'em back