Death Parade lyrics

[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
[Hook]
It all boils down to that green mama
n*ggas 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
n*ggas 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 sh*t
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 bullsh*t 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
[Hook]
It all boils down to that green mama
n*ggas 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
n*ggas don’t want it like the HIV virus, word up