Roc Marciano – 1000 Mile Stare (Audio, Lyrics)

Roc Marciano unveils a Nicholas Craven-produced piece titled “1000 Mile Stare”. Listen, stream, buy, read the lyrics, mp3 download.

Roc Marciano 1000 Mile Stare

From Dave East and Don Q holding it down in the city to the Griselda team doing its thing out in Buffalo to NYC legends like Fat Joe, Ja Rule and Jadakiss (sorry, Dipset) blasting back onto the scene with incredible Verzuz battles, that distinctive New York sound is back and some weight has been lifted off Nas and Jay-Z’s shoulders.

Roc Marciano is another one of those dudes spitting the realest bars over the toughest beats and on his most recent release, “1000 Mile Stare,” the Long Island native paints a picture of a dude getting through grimy situation after grimy situation with the help of his friends, Smith and Wesson.

“1000 Mile Stare” is produced by Nicholas Craven. Craven, who has made music for Marciano, Ransom, Mach-Hommy and all three Griselda members, flips a soothing soul sample into an ominously warm, lo-fi instrumental and Roc sticks with his customary, close-to-spoken-word flow for the entirety of the record.

Roc Marciano – 1000 Mile Stare (prod. Nicholas Craven)

Lyrics

[Verse 1]
That dirty money stink
Scrub it in the sink
Brothers wasn’t the same
Now I got blood on my sneaks
Some was smudged on my cheeks
Slugs run in your mouthpiece, a dozen at least
Beloved I’m covered in grease
But now I do my morning runs on a beach in Greece
I’m beyond a GOAT
I’m such a threat
These niggas can’t touch me, not a threat
Glock 40 in the strawberry red drophead
Look like a red Moncler
In my Air 1 clear solitaire
I’m rhymin’ at a God tier
Brown foxes, I’m a chocolatier
I got the 1000 mile stare, you got a coward’s glare
Gunpowder cloud the air
How dare you come out your mouth sounding weird
Poppin’ all that fly shit out your big
They beggin’ for recognition like some bitches ’til they bedridden
Lead whizzin’ through a relative’s kitchen
Hit mama wig all we saw was watermelon and chicken
Shit was all on the dishes

[Verse 2]
Servin’ butter for bread and butter
That Mais’ Margiela steppers in every color
May lay your head with some heavy lumber
Up in London
Creep with the gun like I’m doin’ lunges
School these dunces
Loot in my Gucci jumpers
Keep a few sticks with toolie dumpers
Could never be too reluctant
To shoot the musket
My knuckles is jewel-encrusted
You on fuck shit
Made a few adjustments
Niggas bit the swag but couldn’t do it justice
It’s quite flattering and I find it embarrassing
Y’all stinkin’ up the joint like a quiet flatulent
Pull up and bang out if you feelin’ froggy
The inside of the Ferrari got foggy
Word to mommy
I knew from his shirt the work was a body