Troy Ave - 3 Gold Chains lyrics

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Troy Ave - 3 Gold Chains lyrics

[Hook: Waka Flocka] All these presidents my pocket like the white house I'm the type of n***a n***as read about I get cake, cake, cake like Rihanna n***a Getting to this cash what my life about 3 gold chains like I'm dealing dope Off the weed game just listen, I'll show you the ropes Ain't nothing worse than being broke I know the f**ing feeling I'm a rich n***a tryna touch a another million [Verse 1: Waka Flocka] Vacuum seals and scales are my best friends Trap money, f**ing b**hes and they best friends Rap money, f**ing groupies in the west end Tryna jack, catch the lad like he Zeppelin I came up off the shake, I ain't talking Harlem Ballin off trees feel, like I'm James Harden I'm known to sell out, like the garden n***a These yellow diamonds on my wrist, like a tape of caution Tell my brother, I am on my way to cut some more gra** My worst fear in life, is have no cash Ain't no feeling on earth, like being broke, n***a Ain't no trees, then I will sell a fiend soap, n***a [Hook: Waka Flocka] [Verse 2: Waka Flocka] I want it all, money tall, like Dwight Howard Wrist glish sh**, looking like a light tower New coupe, white paint, like a brick of powder Can probably shop for red bottoms, soul search you, like I am on a browser Loud on-deck, I got the charger power Make a k**ing off of trees, I should send some flowers Bands in my pocket, like Maroon 5 So f** ya twelve dollars and fifty cents an hour I came up, and so-called friends looking sour Jealous n***as make me sick, call them Alfalfa Black diamonds in my chain, yeah the piece Malcolm So many presidents, I need a fourth hand to count them [Hook: Waka Flocka] [Verse 2: Troy Ave] It's Troy Ave aka Harry Powder n***a Gold chains, c**aine, pay for hours n***a Drug dealer love scrilla Gotta keep it real Got a a couple of rollies I don't need to eat a pill Still popping though East Coast popping flow Came from the bottom flow Now I'm here got it show Everybody who ain't help my a** can kiss 8 hundred on my belt still sagging b**h Picking up the bread Count before we pop Boy we show the gang tryna out them in the lobby Always on the side guess he in mine too cause I'm in jail Every thing I talk the truth Mothaf**er [Hook: Waka Flocka]