Troy Ave - Cuffin Season (Keymix) lyrics

My dough keep flippin when I'm lookin up (6 O's) She know it's no kissin, take the dick and f** Ya'll keep slippin, we be grippin up We don't get to diss em, we just hit em up BSB records, we the new sh** It's Troy Ave case you wondering who this Real n***a from the streets, we are not the same Either p**y or some paper when my phone ring Hoes keep calling I ain't picking up Labels keep calling, I need bigger bucks Get a mill, hit me on the walkie Til then all my mills off then forget the talkin White Empire State throwin dice Married to the game, no ring, just ice Cool young n***a, neck full of freezer Furs to the floor, no respect for the PETA sponsored links Girls only f** so respectin the peda Short stop baby, gotta call Derek Jeter I 2 can put it on for the city You ain't heard a n**s buzzin this big since 50 Get riches, die tryin, use iron when I'm thievin n***as know I will, son, I don't play for Phoenix 36 a bird, what you payin for my CDs Get a extra quarterback, both 100 grams sold All work pays n***a, All my homies eatin n***a, f**in X and Tre n***a I came for the money, you can keep the fame In the street n***as funny, I'm in the streets with J Why you at All Star weekend like a b**h with no panties? Why you goin to LA when you ain't offered no Grammy 2 words, one meaning get rowdy And I don't' like them n***as, and I don't like nobody like em Hear these red nose go with they phonies again Wanna stand in my section, let the hoes get in Outside lookin like a welfare line Cus word of mouth say I really live my rhymes They came to feel the energy, it's something that's true And the b**hes jump f**in, make me they boo Who? Who? Cry me a river, tears of joy I brought New York City back, young boy Troy muthaf**as Came here to thank me later But if you don't thank me then we know you a hater s**a I'm the reason I'm the reason why the city is even respected again What we even talkin bout? f** outta here mane You see these truck a** n***as Real deal, Holyfield right here I look and sound like New York, right now it's real hard to find We ain't surfin no waves We are the wave, believe me BSB Records I come through how I do With the cla**ic feel so you know that it's real The f** going on mane? These other n***as jump, man what's goin on? Imposters These is rasta pasta I sound like the subway I sound like the brand new Benz merkin off on the streets hittin a pothole I sound like going to the corner store at 4 in the morning for a f**in dutch I don't sound like no bouncy turn up It's dream club, get the f** outta here, bullsh** mane Troy Ave BSB Records Countin money, let me turn the mic up so you can hear it This is money Yea, I'm getting that n***a I get it off the ground n***as ain't neva took chips out of 10 Cobaine tell these n***as This rap sh** is easy n***a Kid you ain't neva had the bu*terflies in yo stomach When a flash of light pullin up While you in the F150 On yo way to CT With a bird and a half allegedly You don't know what, you ain't here before mane Motherf**in 750 grams each In the lining of the sweat suits sittin near the stomach Like how you tolt the hamme We had, we had it there You hold this part, you hold that part Because in our head we thinkin We heard some with that If you got less than a brick then you get less time So we both got 7 50 and we get caught then we getting less time These n***as ain't the real deal Holyfield mane Troy Ave n***a I don't know bout that other sh** I represent what New York is about I represent the streets, I represent being fly I represent getting money I'm charismatic like a motherf**er The b**hes love me And my name's solid gold Powder!