Death Parade

[Production by Roc Marciano] [Verse 1] I stay close to the Beretta Folks that wave toast, know better Gross cheddar, cut it up Throw it in the shredder Hoes sniff lines off broken mirrors I throw five at your smoke tinted, rented You hope to try to dip it like Emmitt Your image is translucent like a Benz ceiling I see you trying to blend in like a chameleon Gun wielding, I’m on the low, I feel shielded But that’s a false sense of fulfillment Debts are paid in the death parade Shots are exchanged from the Escalade My late father’s name in the chest, engraved A pound and three grams what the necklace weighed Man of character Get clapped up in your Challenger The Glock nine’s black with the silencer I’m a bachelor Flip pies without the spatula You died in the Valentine massacre Crime ambassador My capturers channel my spirit through the shrine in Africa I fly past like a time traveler [Chorus] It all boils down to that green mama Niggas squeeze llamas Just to seize dollars D’s and Impalas, street scholars Hopping out of V’s with them clean Prada’s Sip pina coladas with a mean goddess We eastsiders, jeans is knotted Niggas don’t want it like the HIV virus, word up [Verse 2] Wounds and bandages, food and cannabis Money management, advantages, damages The Spanish fans break banisters Gates and parameters They see us wearing chains and amulets Handle this, evangelist, condo in Los Angeles That kind of dough a hoe should hand a pimp Once aware of my decent, my heir is rich I forever swear to spit that Blair Witch Bare witness to rare shit Steer Benz's like airships You can’t get this pimping out a pamphlet Millionaire hand print from a tan prince The gear you wear get rinsed By the tec wit the air vents I caress the wood gear shift Your weak tune won’t move me, not a square inch Spit your zucchini tear swift Your CTS, tail spent BBS rim well bend Man of the cloth That bullshit endless talk ran its course Blam fours til you abandoned the fort Got birds like Le Coq Sport at the port Salt water on the yacht floorboard Popping wine cork These are just a crime boss thoughts [Chorus] It all boils down to that green mama Niggas squeeze llamas Just to seize dollars D’s and Impalas, street scholars Hopping out of V’s with them clean Prada’s Sip pina coladas with a mean goddess We eastsiders, jeans is knotted Niggas don’t want it like the HIV virus, word up