Trae Tha Truth - Throw Aways FAKE lyrics

Chorus (Yung Joc) Servin' birds and totin' K's Chevrolets on top of blades All of us got throw aways Bustin' out the Escalade Bustin' out the Escalade Bust-bustin' out the Escalade Bustin' out the Escalade All of us got throw aways Verse 1 (Yung Joc) Whole lotta n***as got a lot to say Save your breath or state your case Speak your mind or be on your way Ain't got time for the games you play Every n***a in my squad got a strap Grind hard to put the block on the map If the city ain't sellin' And the people ain't yellin' I'm tellin' ya I'm goin' back hard in the trap Hustlenomics all I know Flip that money stack that doe Think its funny slap that hoe Take his money text that hoe Yeah I said it I'll say it again When I play it I play it to win Choppa chop of all your limbs Doc' it ain't no savin' him Chorus (Yung Joc) Verse 2 (Trae) n***as mad but I'm here for the crown Mark a** n***as betta lay the f** down Homie I'm the king when it come to these streets You don't wanna go there n***a sit the f** down Voices get low everytime I come 'round If I take you to the hood you will never get found When I come out with the K Everybody better pray If I bust you can hear it from the other side of town Get a few of these runnin' at you light fast Dumb fly a** n***as get dropped to the land Then I got a few goons on stand for a grand I'm a a**hole sittin' with a nice set of hands G for real I put the H on that Talk sh** b**h I'ma get a case on that Fucc rap I done put 'em in they place on that I'm the certified truth goin' off on a track Chorus (Yung Joc) Verse 3 (Gorilla Zoe) Fuccin' with a n***a like me get your whole head bust co*k back I bust I stay strapped cuz I love that rush Hollow point slip when they push your guts n***a Head on the pillow you in a coffin Momma she cryin' your kids they orphans Ain't no shells cuz n***aa we found them I'm the problem you can't solve him Cook 'em chop 'em serve 'em shop 'em We go broke my n***a*a we robbin' Eat what we k** why you all play possum Shop witcha boy my product's awesome We stay strapped one five carbon 18 flat and ain't no bargains Got my work so we up'ed my margins It's a drop so yeah I charge 'em Chorus (Yung Joc)