Lyrics Irving - Troy Ave, Young Lito, Bleezy Kyrie

Irving

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