Troy Ave - The Symphony lyrics

rate me

I’m recallin this motherfucker live from puerto rico

Suavemente, these bum ass niggas with they struggle music

Can’t fuck with me mane

I’m out here sippin mojitos,

These niggas under like the 3 chain

My nigga avon block still, on the pete rock peek

Nigga pete rock hit me, listen I’ll fuck with you

This the all mighty bsb, black get em!

I’m big block I’m hard knock like fort knox

I sling rocks the projects, the crack spots

I toke block, this headshots, you dead pop

Like web rock, no red dot for a headshot

Same george, same junes, dealer mind set

Different crack, new money, hustler mind set

You wanna cheat the stretch, get in the wines wet

Cook some dust up in it, have your ...vexxed

See that paper flip, like the likatry

Every move for the chips, so I remove the piece

Shots blow, bodies droppin, I’m a wilderbeast

Boc blaze the packs, low flames, good crack

I got keys to distract, got keys in the trap

Fuck deez and raps, walk fiends with bats

I don’t know how to act, I got a fucking problem

Or a black hood strap, you want that fucking problem

Bitches checkin for me, I ain’t even made a name yet

Put me on the track it’s guarantee to be a train wreck

Crash course collision any nigga in my vision

Tryina stop me and my niggas, intentions of getting richer

Heard me on that crossfighter, like we ...

Now I’m buzzin like a blood talking to his orange son

Niggas real want something, y’all know where to find me

I be right there on the back blocks so blocks still beside me

Find me on troy ave with troy ave, strapped up

Niggas get a whole movie clip for tryina act tough

Put you in a black tux, body decomposin

I got bitches on they knees, and now they ain’t composin

Like the dog off the leash man the nigga runnin wild

Talking all these pretty hoes like it’s going out of styles

Who caught the most bodies, not convicted in trial

I raise my hand I got committed to foul, word up

Rolling with my niggas and I’m stunting on these bitches

Cooking coke in kitchen’s letter, fiend do the dishes

Shout out to sabrina, a freebase diva

I’m charging for mine, and grand at the 3 fever

Hot headed nigga, my temperature on fuego

Killing niggas dead depending on how my day go

Mobbing like a day go, bsb got yayo

Come and shop with us big bro

The price go down when I weight more

Counting money, getting hypy like a babe bro

Digi scales where I lat blow

It’s 4 pounds on my waist though

Got a spanish girl pregnant with my lil baby

I made her get an abortion, I got a mercedes

Blood on my hand, money in my pocket

I’m going till the law or the lord come and stop me

Power to the people and I really got it

Streets know your boy selling coke for a profit

...great bands, 3 bitches, one frame

Hoes in the back, 2 seats just lac

All white sheets, I don’t sleep, just nap

When we get there, I’ma bust they crack

Nigga that’s a fact, that’s how I be on it

Your bitch is a rap, I can tell that she on it

Playing on my songs, as she sing along

Fantasizing bout the time when

We could get it on

I’m a dope boy swag to the max type nigga

You a working ass job office max type nigga.