Top Floor 2

Lyrics

(Montage!) (Chris Ro$e gon' be the reason we gon' blow, boom!) (Hook: Dyme-A-Duzin) I can't ride no waves, nah They can't ignore Try to avoid us But my kind can't die, no way I try to politic, got to acknowledge When your vibe don't feel the same They just some pawnstars in rented foreigns They sellin' stolen sauce they can't afford it Thought y'all was All Stars Thought you was ballin' I can't call it (Verse 1: Dyme-A-Duzin) I grew up with fiends and alcoholics Break the chains and move the family forward Grandpa played the leagues and hella sports Nеver made it far enough to makе a fortune (Sheesh) Guess the ball is in my court Can't meet Jesus, sweeping, scrubbing toilets (nah) Visions bigger, dreams way too abnormal Mission for that chicken, can't abort it I'm on the top floor In the kitchen with Tony I feel like a mob boss (Verse 2: Bo Live) Ha Ha, I'm on the top floor Top floor I dip with the cheese, sorry but it's not yours (not yours) Might 'oot up the scene, don't be talkin' macho (macho) Keep 'ooters with me wherever I go Counter clockwise on my wrist in the pot, bro They just let that cop walk free Get that man on a Go-Pro (killed that man) (Hook: Dyme-A-Duzin) I can't ride no waves, nah They can't ignore Try to avoid us But my kind can't die, no way I try to politic, got to acknowledge When your vibe don't feel the same They just some pawnstars in rented foreigns They sellin' stolen sauce, they can't afford it Thought y'all was All Stars Thought you was ballin' I can't call it (Sheesh) (Bridge: Dyme-A-Duzin) I grew up with fiends I grew up with I grew with fiends I grew up with (Interlude: Dyme-A-Duzin) Facts, nigga I grew up with mad fiends Fiends for the money, fiends for the pussy, fiends for the power We was in the projects, nigga Shit, my auntie just asked me for an 8th for Thanksgiving Ha, but we still ate fresh tho You feel me? Grandpa was straight off the football team, the baseball team All the hoes Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah (You're a genius, McFly) Yeah, yeah, yeah (Sheesh) (Verse 3: Dyme-A-Duzin) I grew up around a lot of fiends Record dirty, cup dirty, kicks clean Rich junkie in some thousand dollar jeans Grandfather always told me that I could do- Anything when you confident Anything when you know that you poppin' The haters claiming that I'm a optimist Underground but I'm staying on top of shit Wait I grew around a lot of f— Record dirty, cup dirty, kicks— Been that nigga since my teens Twitter, MySpace, Imeem BBC, BAPE, ice cream See the vision clear Vi— Might've seen me in a few scenes Wu-Tang, getting my cream Get the ghost face like— Ghost face looking like Scream I could never fold on my dreams Never back down, hide or cop pleas Quit with all the GOAT talk please RIP the old Big 3