Troy Ave - Like Me lyrics

[Verse 1: Young Lito] Straight out of Brooklyn A young, live n***a named Lito Baby faced, hella fly, but my heat blow Rap's cool but I'm really in the streets, so Don't compare me to rappers, I'm more like Meech, ho sh** changes, now I'm calling the shots I just bought me a chain, I really wanted a Glock These n***as see me, they're hating I'm getting all of this guap But run up, and I'm ‘a have your momma calling the cops We're putting pain in, BSB bangin' Shot the thirty but he felt ten like Raymond Don't sell nicks though, my n***as really slangin' We're dealing with bricks, got some chicks bringing the ‘caine in I'm saying I'm a fly n***a, look at me Getting dough is a crime, the judge will throw the book at me These n***as is shook of me Still in the hood where the wolves and the crooks will be Really tough, these n***as is faking like Booker T [Hook: Young Lito] Young n***a out here, getting money I swear they don't do it like me (They don't do it like me!) Haters looking like they want something from me I'll have them hooked to an IV (Don't play with your life!) Can a young n***a get money? [x4] [Verse 2: Troy Ave] Yes I can, yes I can Get money off snow bunnies for my Mexican Was out in Cancun, jet skis, (extra tan?) Came home and bought a new Mercedes-Benz sedan Now I'm riding on the road to riches I'm just doing me, haters saying I'm malicious Take the scrutiny and dick up out your throat, will you? Nobody cares about the opinion of a broke n***a What you're saying won't never matter You ain't even up, bank full of chuck And I'm the n***a that the bad b**hes want to f** Got a question for you—is you mad or is you mad as f**? Throw you n***as bullets, [?] Keep a Colt Forty-Five, last shooting was [a nine?] [?] was a goon, but to me he was vagina That's a lesson, hear the warning, mind your B I Z ‘Cause we're the money murder crew, BSB n***a [Hook] [Verse 3: Young Lito] Have you ever seen a thug in Phillip Lim? Who's got so many pounds a n***a could fill a gym See most of my homies dead or even locked in a pen I'm talking I'll Slaughterhouse for selling that Eminem (Who is him?) It's Lito, the young boss don Fly as hell with my cross on sh**, I might have put your boss on I had the right girls, still did them all wrong And got some old friends a n***a just floss on Flyer than an eagle, b**hes screaming Lito Riding in the Benz but the shooters in the Regal If rap fails, then I'm ‘a get it off my ‘migo My youngins on the strip hitting licks like it's legal You n***as better D up Balling, n***a we up But not on the court, I'm in the suite with my feet up Haters throwing shots but they really want to be us Might go to Philippe's and just eat them n***as' re-up [Hook]