Olathe lyrics
by Roc Marciano
[Verse 1: T.F]
Garlic butter on the crab legs got 'em sentimental
Heavy tinted windows doin' pirouettes with a demon in it
Had an oriental, had to get her on the instrumental
She had to hit the track, first trap ain't no looking back
Masked up like I'm cooking meth, I'm like Iron Man back in '96
And when it comes to beef I'm with it every season, I'm the Iron Chef
I was 15, I seen a marble floor inside a Pyrex
Whatchu know about a couple Snapple bottles for the sherm sticks?
Drive-bys out of Thunderbirds, did it acapellas, n*ggas know the word
n*ggas know the vibe, you n*ggas nerds, you don't know the curb
Got a bad b*tch and she play the 'burbs
And she be dipped out, had to ask if she be selling gurb, word to 2 Eleven
MAC-11 match the black Amiris, spiral bullets made him backpedal
Turned his Cadillac into roadkill, cause his trunk had a couple racks in it
LordMobb we the front runners, made men, mad b*tches
This for the n*ggas hatin', ya'll n*ggas pus*y: mad b*tches
Nine milly made her spine tingle, fine china bring the lines with it
Quarter piece I let the dimes hit it, now they layin' up, like they Rod Strickland
Ain't no business like mob business, waking up to a cup of Folgers and brand new set of side b*tches
I'ma bounce back and I'ma dive in it
n*ggas never pictured livin' through it, fast forward now we gettin' to it
Yeah the lick Jewish, made the wrist Cuban, and that b*tch hitting like it's Ray Lewis
We in the Hidden Hills, probably crushing pills, bustin' all night watching SNL
With the happy ending like fairy tales, Chinese with the rusty shells
Test lot, we finna break 'em in, if it don't bust his head, I bet I break his leg
Made the breaking news, bandana like Omega Red
Back to pirouettes, wrist shinin' like mirror tint
50 pointers like pyramids, airheads I can care less
You n*ggas pressure cases, all airbags
I was airin' sh*t and I ain't wear a mask
Pulled up with a pair of bags, raw cass, sacs 5th ave
Hair-trigger on a colt pony, gave a n*gga wrist whiplash
[Verse 2: Conway the Machine]
Started out gettin' double-ups, had to run it up, got my money up, n*gga, hard times never troubled us (Huh?)
Got my b*tch Dior bubbled up, got her titties done, fixed her stomach up (Woo)
b*tch talking 'bout she love me, (Yeah) when I know the difference 'tween love and lust (Ha)
You can miss me with that loyalty sh*t, n*gga I'm the only one I trust (Me)
Gave these n*ggas racks, fronted n*ggas packs, somehow they still f*ck it up (Broke)
It's a cold world, better bundle up, pus*y n*ggas better huddle up (Woo)
My shooter followin' my new foreign, and he do the scorin', that's Bubba Chuck (Brrr)
When I heard the beat I spit pain on it, when I'm brainstormin', n*gga thunderstruck
Like rain pourin', can't convince us that y'all ain't informants (Ah)
Boogers in the tennis chains enormous, (Ah) VVS's and they 80 pointers (Woo)
f*ck them n*ggas that be hatin' on us, cause they ain't important
I don't want her if she ain't imported
Whippin' up the cocaine batter, you could get a Benz (Whip up)
14, seen a n*gga brain splattered and I didn't cringe (Ah)
Think about all the little dirt that we did at [?]
When we used to beat the brakes off of n*ggas, Bing Bong just like my n*gga Nems (C'mere)
Lil b*tch mad at me, asked did I hit her friend?
Told her no even though I did, and I lowkey plan to hit again (Hahaha)
Gotta rewind my sh*t, listen closely to the bars for the hidden gems
Hidden Hills with a trophy, I'm just seein' life through a different lens
I'm a menace to society, b*tch them extendo clips is firing (Brrr)
That's what a n*gga get for tryin' me, just look at the rap game now
You see what I facilitated quietly? (Ha) These n*ggas listenin' to my tapes
They say "that n*gga 'Way inspired me", (Woo) I'm just that n*gga, b*tch, entirely (Woo)
Gone
[Verse 3: Roc Marciano]
Bet the 5th dim ya lights when I hit the kill switch
Mwah, that's a kiss goodnight, n*gga been a lick (Goodnight)
One through the pillow, in the middle of his head, left his whole sh*t split (Bah)
Woke the old heads up, had the whole city lit (Woo)
Might let him hold 50 if your little jewelry on, go and give me that
I ain't into Mike Amiri's, can't fit the semi in them little skinny pants (f*ck this sh*t)
Still send a b*tch word to Kenny Red
f*ck the Henny, I was sippin' red, in the 6 like a stick of Big Red
Talkin' like y'all good, that's a false bill of goods (Cap)
I leave you on the floor spillin' blood, throw 'em in the woods (Facts)
Pause, dawg, I'ma get a wood (Get a bone)
Actin' all boss-hog till a n*gga get cooked
No pork, f*ck a pig foot, treat the Porsche like I'm drivin' big foot
When it's on, n*ggas get shook, it was sorta like they spotted Bigfoot (Look)
You ain't gotta go to school to get booked
I just told my shooter sit put
I just know if it's about a b*tch, it's a witch hunt
Man a chick could get it, it don't matter which one
6 million ways to get splattered, pick one (Pick one, n*gga)
I don't care how it gotta happen, get it done (Get it done)
Hit you with a bag, lil' n*gga live it up, Marc