Troy Ave Break N Bag Lyrics

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They call me The Block ‘cause I’m reppin the blocks
The bass and the soda, what I cook in the pot
I just enter the game, I’m setting up shop
I load up the glock, I could take off yo top
You see me in the Benz, you see Ave in the drop
BSB and we hot, pussy is something we not

You pussy niggas got me fucked up
If you think I’mma, I gon be fucked up
Just bass I shot and get you fucked up
You running on my mind, stay fucked up
I would say second-hand of the chronic smoke
A paranoia of the boys who’s at my door
This ain’t yo problem, this street straps
Super motherfuckers think they hot
Like the pound on em, give em heat checks
One shot won’t be no reflex
This the crack game, you ain’t in it man
You the gum, wanna buy my timberland
I’m the B side eat you for dinner fan
You don’t fuck with the hoods, you Zimmerman
Mean the streets to me, I’m a fuckin man
I’m out here pitchin, I could strike you out
Come, let me tell you what this life about
Sex, money, murda, that’s compilation
Me as if forced confrontation
Shoot like daily, that’s an occupation
3, 5, 7, that could stop yo hatin
When I catch you, no debatin
Can’t even sleep, too much perspiration

Block, that’s an understatement
Fam is nothing sacred

Shoot a nigga dead for that bread, how he got a bitch
Ass nigga, you ain’t fast nigga, race a hollow tip
Chiddy chiddy bang bang, all my niggas maintain
Raggin here, gang bang, BSB, dope slang
Cocaine, coke train, mad blow sacks 5th
Avenue, Troy Ave, new Baleciaga’s pick
Kick it with a bitch
Bad lookin like the world cup
Whole lotta game, young playa so the girls fuck
Giddy up, city tuck, 9mm wham
Murder game, burn a blunt, usually with chizzy pals
Note to self, when you sip the hell, no whip the snow
Tough and I’m saying on bam
Don’t get giky bitch
Alright, alright

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