Correction Lyrics Nine Spray by Roc Marciano

Featuring(s) : Ka

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Lyrics

My mind spray, my nine spray
My mind spray, my nine spray
My nine spray
My mind spray, my nine spray

[Roc Marciano]
Outlaw lifestyle, I'm raw, no lifestyles
Fly whores get piped down
My sores get iced down, I'm like owww
The K put you out the game like five fouls
You outta bounds, I'm outta town runnin' with hounds
Dumpin' the cal, kick up a dust cloud
The gun is rust brown, it's a oldie, but goodie
I'm looking like Goldie in the hoodie
Rose gold rollie, tec 9's is loaded up fully
Shells fly, open you like p*ssy
I slide in you, skin and injure
Black down like a ninja, for legal tender
Chrome desert eagle bend ya
Ten send you like a street vender:
Cook your meat, beef get tender
No apron, .38's shave you like bacon
And get shanked in them staircases
Tryna pitch, gotta run the base
Bottom-bitch keep floodin' papers
My ace's got cut faces
Raw flesh got it cut and pasted
Butterloaf in the oven baking
Nothing sacred
You touch cake niggas wanna come and taste it
You get stripped bucked naked
f*ck a bank statement
I got over a 100K in my basement, your formula's basic
You payin' layaway on a bracelet, you repair, I replace shit
You a chair, I'm a spaceship
You shed a tear out of sheer hatred
But to get here more than skill, takes patience
Ill natured, golden age reels, feels ancient
Motion picture rap we like film makers

My mind spray, my nine spray
My mind spray, my nine spray
My nine spray
My mind spray, my nine spray

[Ka]
Jums by division sums how I'm livin'
They slump with this comfort, it's the numb that I give 'em
To get my weight like a ape, hung with the gibbons
Slung narc in the park gettin' crumbs with the pigeons
Wanna squab, bullets get lobbed, I'm good at my job
On the strip runnin shit where you couldn't have jogged
Cops, sheriffs, marshals despise
They watch for errors and net us when parcel arrives
We get cake, big slate of part on the sides
Strangle a human, angle with monstrous lines
We'd be straight if we ate, but we harsh with the nines
My body heal faster than the scars in my mind
Sour grapes for papes, now I'm regarded as wine
Lip is scroll, witch nipple cold, sip it slow
Even when tight, righteous recite with the wicked flow
This is cream talk, climbing the beanstalk
Team tryna find Green Giant not a clean thought
Pull mitt, full clip, loaded head
We keep it cooking looking for the golden egg
Then shots sound, somebody pops dropped down
Man folded, another ran holding a hot pound
Split him backward, dying slow, living rapid
Triggers blasted, need compassion but niggas lacked it
When beef boil, you either feel a bullet or recoil
I dress it like a peasant, but the speech royal

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