Bruh Man lyrics by Roc Marciano - original song full text. Official Bruh Man lyrics, 2024 version | LyricsMode.com
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Roc Marciano – Bruh Man lyrics
[Verse:]
Crash Beamers, get my slacks out the cleaners
My queen don’t even speak English
Watches on arms, rings on fingers
Notes played like Coltrane and Mingus
If you can’t play the game, wing it
Remember Lee? The same as me, wing men, smooth as Luther Ingram
Ordained, shoe game strained, Eddie Kane’s pain
Heavy chain, s**, cocaine, a fresh chest pain
Dress plain, clever, White Plains, my life’s changed
Polite ways, nice waves, white slaves
My Nikes is like the ice age, Ice Capades
I rock the Issac Hayes shades, it was a phase
The legacy, the flesh of an emcee is a delicacy
I delicately squeeze shots from the celibacy
I’m like Denzel in Pelican Brief
The Porsche is yellow like American cheese (please)
My taste in women’s like Sade, we left the soiree
The Jaguar’s gray, the caviar’s great
Swipe the black card, 4. 6 come with the crash bar
The seats is white like Terry Bradshaw

[Hook:]
It’s a tough business, duckin’ the sentence
Hustlers, sinners, crushin’ the fiddish
A dutch of spinach, bruh man, nigga chillin, nigga chillin’
Bruh man, nigga chillin’
It’s a tough business, duckin’ the sentence
Hustlers, sinners, crushin’ the fiddish
A dutch of spinach, bruh man, nigga chillin, nigga chillin’
Bruh man, nigga chillin’

[Verse 2:]
Water whippin’ work – whip the furt (merk)
Twist purp, hit ‘em where it hurt
$800 dollar shirt, bitches flirt, I kick up dirt
Shit, Bert, Benzes with the skirt, rubber get burnt
Duckin’ 5-0, whoa, Tae Bo
Eyes low, keep the. 45 by the thigh bone
Chanel socks, glocks, tip the bellhop
Checks is in the mailbox, to think we used to sell rocks
Flex the gators with the petrified eye
Accessorize, neck ties, cuff links, rough minks
Just think, I can knock your buzzard just with one blink
‘Cause it ain’t nothin’ sweet, buckin’ heat, hookers rub feet
Hoes we never cuff ‘em, let ‘em run free
The clothes? Shit is custom – we run things, things don’t run we
Crocodiled-down, Dundee
Yo, it’s a done D, hoes often tell me I got dumb Gs

[Hook:]
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