[Verse: Roc Marciano]
Ah, why i sell tags, nail bags
Leather in the jag, it's [?]
She like bad boy, jail [?]
My bed was looking like [?]
Matter of fact, you burning gas
You wanna ride in the fast track
Told her don't hit the glass, be a class act
Now your womb so polluted, couldn't bear children
Smoked out, you might need to get the air filtered
The death angel was near, n***as felt it
I sell fish, but i can't help I'm unselfish
Just copped the white Bentley, but it's blue inside
Lifes good, but the doors suicide
Marc n***a