Meyhem Lauren
Velvet Cape
[Intro: Roc Marciano]
Light my blunt, you fucking whore
Yeah, that's what the fuck I'm talking about
N***a's got game, it's a muthafucking shame
Make you want to grab the pump shotty and aim
One in the brain, uh yeah, one in the brain
Check it, yeah, uhh
N***a's got game, it's a muthafucking shame
Grab the pump shotty and aim

[Verse 1: Roc Marciano]
When you see me with that mask, it ain't for hockey, black
Used to play the lobby with crack, Wally's is black
Pontiac's quality rap
Tapping punani from the back off the Yak
My bitch is built like a yak, my kick's is a rack
Open your chicken wrap, wings on the pigeon flap
Still rock fisherman hats with the slacks
You're listening to facts, nothing false
My heart won't defrost, send shots back and forth
Serve soft, ho circle us all, sipped in velour
Kiss the gift horse (muah), a eighth off the bricks chipped off (break 'em off)
Rose gold links from Panama
Tan lines from camel rides, smooth like the Phantom glides
Fly eyewear, diamonds is rare
Fresh out of Zaire
I'm on a higher tier, dry your tear
Pop guns by the pair, one in the trunk, call that a spare
Lift you in the air, Ligaments tear
Yeah
[Verse 2: Action Bronson]
My mind is different though
Just lift your chain over your neck, don't make it difficult
These choices I make, no need for explanation
Exceeding expectations
I'm like a surgeon deal with daily operations
Of the life we live
Green drugs rolled up in paper
A very subtle Meyer lemon sauce, Sicilian capers
Moroccan razors, cause life is all about a balance
Good come with the bad, the plain comes with the palette
It could get violent, send your body to the stylist
I stand alone, you cats be wildin' like I'm Irish
Protection from the virus, "Magic" J
Homies pass away, I'm living life until that tragic day
Dip in 635, CSI, Gil Grissom eyes
We only smoke it if it's crystallized
The drugs are hidden by a pigeon in her tits and thighs
My pockets never minimize, whipping a cinnamon ride

[Verse 3: Meyhem Lauren]
This crime saga rap, twist the Goldschläger cap
Waves under my stocking cap, Queens shit, we started that
East Coast artifact, never artificial
Fly lecture architecture, box cutters will kiss you
Shotgun shells will massage you
Type of affection that'll make your friends dodge you
It's all love though, even in times of war
I'll beat the pussy up, and make vaginas raw
Wait a designer whore, they come back like china raw
Fly, fuck a tie, only suit I'm rocking is velour
Got Benz money, but look better in a Cadillac
Timepieces, rhyme, pieces, victim of my habitat
Divine status, I'm already known for having that
Dead a tan linguine, nowadays because I rather black
And fuck marinara, I like my gravy hotter
We keeps it spicy so I order it arrabiata