Irving - Troy Ave, Young Lito, Bleezy Kyrie

Real nigga feeling like i’m Kyrie Irving with the rock

Baking soda whip it good and

have a feen come lick the pot

Check the corners, driving foreigns, they ain’t even hit the lot

Club promoters Know Im Bout It get the bitches to the spot

Wait a minute, counting chicken in the coupe ain’t that ironic

Bitches text me, I dont’t read it I just text back «I ain’t got.»

Lord have mercy, Panameras double parked up on the yacht

Money murder, fucking bitches hottest nigga fucking bitches on your block

Real Nigga

Coming up man all I wanted coming up was a Glock

Now i’m older, shit got colder, so only rollie that I watch

Stay high, not the bottom, younging started from the top

If I saw it then I want it, what the fuck I went and got?

I be out here switching lanes with my nigga Mdot

If a hater getting crazy then we blowing up the spot (Ah Ah Ah)

For that shmoney you’ll get shmurdered GS9

G5 flying down your lane like Lebron

You call it «flexing», we call it «fronting» but busemis on lock

With a queen she getting low, she on the run from the cops

Feeling like i’m A-Town with all these birds on my block

Check my watch, it looks like my jeweler made it with Watts

Ahh man.

Ahh man.

Bleezy is the man

I know you hating on me because I know your bitch a fan

God damn, I got them killers working on the block

If you need it, we got it, the crack spot