Roc Marciano
The Wild Bunch
[Sample]
I got the wild style
Always been a foul child
Represent to the fullest
[Verse 1: Oh No]
Yo A-Villa we way illa
I'm like an uncaged gorilla, bananas peeled the killa
What my pen will tell ya, it ain't Penn & Teller
The rain you will need Rihanna's umbrella
When it came it's like a cyclone or a hurricane
The perfect storm to integrate, you a fish bait
I urinate all over your state, get it straight
I infiltrate from what I illustrate, the illest traits
Now watch me illuminate
Across the globe ya'll ready know
I turn into that Gettysburg get a show
Yall get it from the get-go
When my clique blow it's like a fo-fo
Ya'll get low, hit the flo', I'm high while I'm gettin' dough
Then I'll take ya ho to penetrate the hole
Thickest with the flow, can't be touched with a 10 foot pole
No, you must not know who you fuckin' with
The last man standing, n***a we run this shit
Run ya shit
Our city motherfucker
I got that wild style, come fuck around
And get layed down, by the foulest child I'll spray 'em down
[Sample]
[Verse 2: Roc Marciano]
Cut to the chase, bust up eighths amongst apes
Buttfuck your date 'til the rubber break
We duct-taped and oven-baked, covered in snakes
Juggling weight where they blaze, fuck a knuckle game
Slugs bang buckle your frame left you underweight
I let my nuts hang in my dungarees
Wanna-be g's wish to be seen in these jeans
The emblem on the specs read D & G
Killin' defeat leave with a Shiela E
Tender like veal meat, you hold your steel weak
Mothers still weep
I run up in freaks built like wildebeasts
Kill beats, MCs are grease-filled grief
The day that you get killed we'll feast
You feel at peace in a field of wheat
I lick steel out the silver jeep
Feel the heat, let familiar eat
Techs we'll squeeze break your shield in three
Just connect with me or you feel defeat
I tuck the chrome three bill degree
I got that wild style, come fuck around
And get layed down, by the foulest child I'll spray 'em down
[Sample]
[Verse 3: Sean Price]
The best MC duke, you know that's I
Sean Price, Mr. Music, Soul Child and I
You ape, I rate best rapper in tri-state
The other 47 states know that my rhyme great
All real, ya'll n***as is fake lord
I shake fake bitch-ass rappers on skateboards
Get the fuck out my face fam
'Fore I put my foot in your ass and fuck up my Space Jams
Shave grams to engrave the space
'K blam, update your face
Listen, n***a the banger buck n***as
Fornicating with guns when I finger-fuck triggers
Top five alive I kill 'em with one verse
Twistin' up your fingers, I kill you on son turf
P, I give a clepto ??
Sket blow, death blow fam, where your candy at
I'm a maniac, fucking braniac