(Intro)
I wear icy gold chains, can’t…me
Told you ni**as I wrote this s**t in the jail
God is great, paper straight
(Chorus)
You know the boy hot, get a thermometer
So baby girl, she want me inside her
On the road to riches, pushing my speedometer
Yelling go young ni**a, get your commas up
You know the boy hot, get a thermometer
So baby girl, she want me inside her
On the road to riches, pushing my speedometer
Yelling go young ni**a, get your commas up
(Verse 1)
On the road to success I pass many with their thumb up
Bird ass ni**as come around when the sun up
Im shining off grinding out here with my ones up
You shot you dying motherf**ker don’t run up
They act like they happy but sick to they stomach
Ni**as hope my downfall gon be they come up
But that ain’t the case, send it street 100
I’m only in here cause I keep it 100
That’s some real ni**as, what you hear when I’m brung up
Oh sh*t I’m goin through another rapper with a hung up
To smoke my stress away you’ll f**k around and burn a lung up
She throat my stress away, open wild, lift her tongue up
(Repeat Chorus)
(Verse 2)
I only put my faith in God cause ni**as be bluffing
When your back against the wall you see everybody fronting
Wearing all Givenchy in the photos and the news
Down to my slippers, try and walk in my shoes
Gotta watch what you say talking to dudes
Cause ni**as be telling get to court and see him too
Paid my lawyer fees and my bail and my dues
Bout to pay and take my family on another cruise
Being a real man is the road less traveled
Responsibilities ain’t never been a hassle
Ni**as want beef like they own a White Castle
So ni**as come creeping they gonna hit gavels
All my raps is real, put my hand on the Bible
My life is a movie all that’s missing is a title
I be seen shooting out the end of a rifle
These are not for kids but the kid is an idol
Pull up in some s**t and I let it run idle
Not a short paper player, money tall as the Eiffel
Tower up at Lenny’s, f**k her when I slide through
The clams and the oysters get her wet as a bayou
Was drowning in sorrow now I make my moms glad
Back in 9th grade sold drugs on…Ave
Young dope boy king choice transition
I see man who don’t make change and then get missing
Lost in the system or lost where they dig em
A sentence feel worse than death depend on what they given
I was gone all this time you ni**as still ain’t hot
You ni**as just rappers I real, they pop
King Troy everything real, they not
My art imitate life and not the other way, watch
No more doing nothing for ni**as off the glove
No more coming through as a favor, that’s a dub
I don’t wanna hear about no promo points and splits
I don’t f**k with artists who don’t really live what they spit
And sh*t you shouldn’t either
This is fake ni**a Ether
Troy Ave the realest ni**a coming out his speakers
Out the East Coast, out the hood like see ya
Crabs in the barrel, in my rear view, leave ya
So long, so long, so long
It’s way too much shade, I’ma go and get my glow on
Bi**h ni**a parade, go ahead and get your float on
God is great, my paper’s straight and so on
Free the real
(Repeat Chorus)
