Mykro - This Is My Year lyrics

f** all the glamours and glitz, I plan to get rich I'm from New York and never was a fan of the Knicks And I'm all about expanding my chips You mad cause I was in the van with your b**h With both hands on her tits Corleone hold the throne, that you know in your heart I got style plus the way that I be flowing is sharp A while back I used to hustle, selling blow in the park Counting g stacks and rocking ice that glow in the dark Forever hottie hunting, trigger temper I'm quick to body something You looking at me like I'm probably fronting I f** around and throw three in your chest and flee to my rest I'm older and smarter this is me at my best I stopped hanging around y'all cause n***as like you Be praying on my downfall, hoping I flop Hoping I stop, you probably even hope I get locked Or be on the street corner with a pipe smoking the rock I got more riches than you, f** more b**hes than you Only thing I haven't got is more stitches than you f**ing punk, you ain't a leader what, nobody followed you You was never sh**, your mother should have swallowed you You on some tag-along flunky yes man sh** Do me a favor; please get off the next man dick And if you think I can't f** with whoever, put your money up Put your j**els up, no f** it put your honey up Put your raggedy house up n***a or shut your mouth up Before I buck lead and make a lot of blood shed Turn your tux red, I'm far from broke, got enough bread And mad hoes, ask Beavis I get nothing bu*thead My game is vicious and cruel f**ing chicks is a rule If my girl think I'm loyal then that b**h is a fool How come you can listen to my first album And tell where a lot of n***as got they whole style from? So what you acting for? You ain't half as raw, you need to practice more Somebody tell this n***a something, before I crack his jaw You running with boys, I'm running with men I'm a be ripping the mics until I'm a hundred and ten Have y'all n***as like "damn it this n***a done done it again" I throw slugs at idiots, no love for city cops I sport a pretty watch, eight-hundred and fifty rocks I'm making wonderful figures I don't f** with none of you n***as I might pull out this gun on your n***as And rob every last one of you n***as