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troy ave - dope boy (hands up) lyrics

[hook: x2]
hands up if you f-cking with a dope boy
hands up if you f-cking with a dope boy
every bad b-tch want a real n-gga
every bad b-tch want a real n-gga

[verse 1]
p is for power n-gga you know about that
i eat and devour n-ggas, you talking bout rap
spoon full of dope, every ball to the point
you need a little fix you broke
and what’s your point of even living?
you f-cking up the rhythm, drum’s full of c0ke
pulling strings used to get em
beat the cold base, beat the p-ssy in the system
playing bricks in my backpack, no kidding
spit what i’m living, i’m giving all facts
these other n-ggas spitting they sh-t, is just so whack
straight about a brooklyn and they saying new york back
the streets know a problem just responsible for that
f-ck what you ball from the avenue of joy
shouts my n-gga boo bizy and my n-gga troy
i’m bout to go fishing, bring me a scale, ahoy
ladies rub your t-ts if you f-ck with a dope boy!

[hook: x2]
hands up if you f-cking with a dope boy
hands up if you f-cking with a dope boy
every bad b-tch want a real n-gga
every bad b-tch want a real n-gga

[verse 2]
see i used to be at harlem f-cking mays b-tch
all black leather like the matrix
and me and cameron’s like brothers from another mother
now we don’t speak much, but he still my brother
my puertoricans wailing out in bushwick
we watch to the front, we just push sh-t
left frackle i’m not a hood melts
a bunch of wild n-ggas rocking good belts
still smoking bogies, while i’m banging boats
kush in the… riddle save the roach
try ave, you from my favorite coats
so i’m a come through with my favorite toats
hammers out in france, that’s french toast
drive bies on the pedal fights, hit you closer
casper, your phantom gonna get you ghost
my goodbyes come in spanish, adios!

[hook: x2]
hands up if you f-cking with a dope boy
hands up if you f-cking with a dope boy
every bad b-tch want a real n-gga
every bad b-tch want a real n-gga

[verse 3]
fake n-ggas be quiet, real n-gga speaking
hard them say with the hammer peeking
free my homie 8 ball from the beacon
i got a few n-ggas on the run eating
we all chasing mills, the hunger for more
the streets is the field, i run up the scope
but i ain’t playing with you n-ggas, before i go broke
i get to spraying at you n-ggas
we all get the blood money, what what?
troy ave getting drug money, f-ck is up
i’m your dealer, i’m your daddy
i would k!ll you in the alley
i’m your pushing man, white base, call it berry
can’t get enough of your love, baby
haters getting nothing but slugs, sh-t crazy
bk all day, catch games at the bob clay, in the suite
but ain’t nothing sweet about make powder

[hook: x2]
hands up if you f-cking with a dope boy
hands up if you f-cking with a dope boy
every bad b-tch want a real n-gga
every bad b-tch want a real n-gga

- troy ave lyrics

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