Troy Ave

Finagle The Bagel
You ain't never counted paper 'til your gums hurt You ain't never had to make do wit' bum work Shit ain't comin' back, you get delirious It's a job in these streets, shit is serious My 'migo got locks in the city mud Back against the wall and I need a plug Flew the fam to the (-) verse the Heat I had twenty thousand grams just last week Shit stopped comin', bills keep comin' 'round Holdin' on my last bird, 'bout to break it down Charged you higher out of ten, then I went in Brooklyn Phone blowin' up, the homies ask how it's lookin' You think if I had the work I wouldn't call you to sell it, you fuckin' jerk You start gettin' mad, talkin' out of frustration In the game, six figures can easily turn to nothin' Damn, I'm hot, dog The fork on the Masi grill pickin' up grot, dog Bought a white house (-) In the presidential, watch me go to the top, dog Man, I got that glow I done came on nothin' to motherfuckin' floor Couple niggas be hatin', I Just be like, 'So?' I never get mad, I just get that door If the shit get bad, then I let that go Letras de canciones You do it cause you have to, I do it cause I could And this is all factual, I do it for the hood Cock the four, cop and go Cause these drugs are for sale, they are not for show Keep a eye on the monitors and lock the doors No comprende unless it's 'bout lots of dough They love it, they still want it, the block is still haunted Turbo in the garage, the cover is still on it One hundred bundles by 9AM, it's a ill mornin' A nigga lookin' good, the bitches is still on him Money, power, mega respect Al-Qaeda is how I got the montega connect If that paper ain't right, they put the K to your neck Give your family a visit, they send your baby a threat A lil' deeper than the repurcussions on the block But that all bein' said, is you hustler or not? Man, I got that glow I done came on nothin' to motherfuckin' floor Couple niggas be hatin', I Just be like, 'So?' I never get mad, I just get that door If the shit get bad, then I let that go I don't get mad, I get dough, I get bags and get low Everybody wit' me good, my bitch bad as shit though You get gas, you seco, we whip ass, we clisco It gets bad and shit slow, we really with the shits, bro Twist your cap for it, (-) When I'm hungry, I eat myself, Snickers commercial I got to eat before a nigga catch a attitude, (-) Fuck sandwiches, I want the chips and dip Whips are quick, Contours, seats grips the hip I (-), at least a hundred grand to understand They put me on a flyer for twenty, I'm a wanted man Son of Sam, I was born in '77 The bitch a late-night Slurpee, She 7/11 Yeah, the family, so you gotta love it I'm a boss, so I got to (-) it Man, I got that glow I done came on nothin' to motherfuckin' floor Couple niggas be hatin', I Just be like, 'So?' I never get mad, I just get that door If the shit get bad, then I let that go From Letras Mania