| Condo Living
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| Big House Dreams
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| Everything I rap about, is what it seems
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| Word to my spleen, niggas need that
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| Word to every fiend, niggas need crack
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| Im a hustlers Hustler, supplying the spots
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| Bricks In My Backpack, I’m buying the blocks
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| And my attitude is like my car tops, roofless
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| Bite my hand, I’ll pistol whip until you toothless
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| Then I’m gon squeeze, cause niggas be coming back
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| And I don’t like the feeling of looking over my back
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| Spark police intrest or let my gun spark, «blah blah»
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| Now im chillin like a summertime park
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| Wit my big chain swanging, pushers all behind me
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| Finish wit the work out
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| Ballings where you’ll find me, off the court
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| God forbid, I’m ever caught
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| It’ll be a drought, dealers taking off
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| Heliport, chopper for the lessons taught
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| Procter wit a metal fork
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| My residue is more than these frontin niggas ever bought
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| Believe me, the Hottest nigga in the streets
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| Go and ask the public
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| Niggas won’t play me on the radio, fuck it
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| I don’t expect to hear real shit from fake niggas
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| Who be putting on they man wack shit and dating niggas
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| I don’t need rap, I got a digital scale
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| Triple A’s and some sandwich bags, all is well
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| Except my flow sicker then a man that’s frail
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| Wit all this weak shit, I should’ve had a chance to fail
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| Still I prevail, off the grams I sell
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| Living fly, hope to god I don’t land in jail
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| I earn harder then Dale
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| Turning hard from the yayo
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| Fast cars, fast money, faster bitches than Gayle -- Deavers
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| Most of em bad bitches, some swear they divas
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| I even got a ugly bitch who suck a good peter
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| Fuck PETA, my furs drag, I puff reefa
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| Off the ground, into the sky, I will leave ya
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| The real reaper, get ya chain stuck up
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| Too many fake real niggas got the game fucked up
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| I yelling fuck them other niggas
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| Cause I’m down for my niggas
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| 6 deep, 6 heats, 6 fingers pulling triggers
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| The devil is a liar, your numbers are too
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| 30 strong but 29 pussy out the crew
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| This what Ima do, get a package bus it open
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| Put it on my tongue, drop a ounce
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| See the bounce, can’t believe the numb
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| Feeling like it’s time, I need to make a power move
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| Heading outta town with the birds, I call it powder moves
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| Do my thang, do my thang, I do my fukin thang
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| Give a shit about the fame
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| Money, money mayne
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| Look at all the pretty bitches wit a coke dealer
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| And look at all the silly bitches wit a broke nigga
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| Powderrrr! |
Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Free Base, artist - Troy Ave. Album song Bricks In My Backpack, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп