Restore The Feeling Lyrics - Troy Ave

I got the streets, you heard! 

BSB, Powder! 

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I'm on some New York shit, to the Max so wavy 

And i hustle hard like my name Maino or 80 

Though i'm my moms first baby, Roc-A-Fella did raise me 

She said i was a Bad Boy, but now i'm more like Jay Z 

During Reasonable Doubt i went the independent route 

Now i'm the big poppa that the industry talk 'bout 

Coogi sweaters and all, praise God and my faith 

Free to GS9 i hope them niggas beat up that case 

I'm still gettin' mine, young and cocky 

I'ma be the king ASAP, no Rocky 

Unless we talk about my jewellery, the wrist and my neck on glitter 

Me and Block was coke boys before French Montana 

R.I.P. Chinx, ya boy about to bring in the bricks 

A city on lock, Raekwon and Ghost, Cuban my links 

Them is O.G.'s man i might be the youngest O.G 

Right after Fab, that's family, luck 'til i'm 

In this soil i was raised to be loyal 

My squad are several, my pockets don't go though 

Might flip the mode, put my Porche on auto 

It's gon' be a ruff rydin' like X, where my dawgs go 

This one here fo' fo', nigga even think 

That will be a hit, should've signed to Murder Inc 

Or maybe GMG, Uncle Murda what you think 

My whole set dip down in different color minks 

Jewels and the gems, shining like a motherfucker 

Standin' in front of the cam, lining like a motherfucker 

We don't Mobb Deep, but i rock with P and Hav 

Guess some d on the block that thing went fast 

Countin' up the Louch, stylin' like P 

Now ima MCM, hoes tryna kiss me 

A nigga on the run like N.O.R.E 

We the breaking news, CNN, BSB Records nigga 

And you see us out here hoopin' 

Free B-Loved and Bang they ain't do that shooting 

But i'm a gun clapper, Yayo weighing bagger 

With mad Bucks in the Banks, Fifty my favorite rapper 

I got one milli, now i'm tryna get two 

Put rocks on any block, watch the fiends fall through 

Never been caught, God bless we know we had to choose 

Somehow the flow is sick, so sick i just flew 

In from out of town, they always sayin' 

We don't fuck with New York rappers, you the one that we playin' 

The South said they jackin' our slang, that shit wack 

Seeing that fuck 12 now every line is a trap 

A lame from Texas was sippin' lean tryna be Future 

If it wasn't for you, your city wouldn't have a future 

L.A. say Kendrick got God, but Troy be spittin' 

You tell stories like Nas when It Was Written 

Chicago said niggas wanna bang like us 

Now it's blown up, come on dawg enough is enough 

Who held it down when niggas was licking Westcoast dick 

But tryna sound like Atlanta desperate for a hit, record 

I'm on record saying I don't respect it 

I'm just splittin' image they way I record on my records 

You guessed it the young king hails from New York City 

I fuck with YG cause he look and sound like his bity 

Migos, Gucci and Thug got that country bass 

If it ain't from Chi-Raq then that drill don't count 

If you a swagger-jacker and your shoe fits this Ether 

Niggas got they own fucking sound clown don't need ya 

They ain't come here for that or your remix neither 

You don't go to the Chinese store when you want pizza 

They ain't come here for that or your remix neither 

You don't go to the Chinese store when you want pizza 

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