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Troy Ave

Genres: Hip-Hop

Badass (joey Badass Diss) Lyrics - Troy Ave

Some people throw shots and it don't matter 

Cause when I throw shots, bones shatter 

Shout to all the real independents 

Labels and women, BSB 

 

You sold a couple records but nobody cares 

You never on the radio cause nobody cares 

You don't matter so you mad bruh, nobody cares 

You just a Internet rapper, nobody cares 

You a worker, I'm a boss yo, nobody cares 

What's your record? Man I don't know, nobody cares 

I asked the bad bitches, and nobody cares 

I asked the real niggas, and nobody cares 

 

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I wake and talk shit, spit the raw shit, stop 

Yous a flithy backpack rapper out a thrift shop 

Drug addict face, what's on your junkie head? 

You ain't no badmon cause you ain't grew dreads 

Who you kill? Who you rob? Who you extort? 

Pussyhole and beat your ass pon the city bus 

I know real niggas, and none of em bump you 

I know plenty bad bitches, and none of em fucked you! 

Stupid lil fool, here go ya intervention 

When they talk about the time, ya name is never mentioned 

Nobody cares, I ain't dissin, this is true 

You a bullshit, Jordan crying face, boo hoo 

I never hear ya songs when I bug in the club 

I never hear ya songs in the hood, you a dubb 

You'll never be the guy, never could, never was 

If you ever had a hater, tell em get off ya nuts 

 

Photos 

 

You sold a couple records but nobody cares 

You never on the radio cause nobody cares 

You don't matter so you mad bruh, nobody cares 

You just a Internet rapper, nobody cares 

You a worker, I'm a boss yo, nobody cares 

What's your record? Man I don't know, nobody cares 

I asked the bad bitches, and nobody cares 

I asked the real niggas, and nobody cares 

 

They gon play this hit on the radio dawg 

And you gon be like "Damn, why they playin this for?" 

You ain't hot so you give the blame to the DJs 

I be making fire, giving flame to the DJs! 

You tryna do music for Coachella 

I make shit for foreign whips and drug sellers 

You more Digable Planets, I'm more Roc-A-fella 

I'm more shoebox money, you more go to the teller 

This fella got a identity crisis, I know me 

Oh, you a real MC? Then you in P-O-P 

"Let me teach you how to dance", that was B-A-D 

You keep hitting my name ho, get off my D-I-C 

Cause I'm a savage, this gon leave you sad bitch 

Don't get suicidal like ya friend, here's a casket 

Steez burning in Hell, my burner's in my belt 

I'm really killing shit, you niggas killing yourself 

Fucking weirdos, off the roof, "Steer clear yo!" 

This niggas tryna fly, he think he a superhero 

Splat man! Fuck you and that man 

And all three labels you signed to, they wack man 

Here's the facts man 

I'm a self made nigga, got it off the curb 

You a finger snappin', poet rapper, spoken word 

If it really was the 90s, you'll be titled as a herb 

If ya movie was biography, Revenge of the Nerds! 

 

You sold a couple records but nobody cares 

You never on the radio cause nobody cares 

You don't matter so you mad bruh, nobody cares 

You just a Internet rapper, nobody cares 

You a worker, I'm a boss yo, nobody cares 

What's your record? Man I don't know, nobody cares 

I asked the bad bitches, and nobody cares 

I asked the real niggas, and nobody cares 

 

Try to start a beef with me, boy you got some 

Nerve, nerve, nerve, nerve 

You know what I do to beef? Man I cook and I 

Serve, serve, serve, cook and 

Serve, cook and, serve, cook and 

Serve, cook and, serve, cook and 

Serve, cook and, serve, cook and 

You know what I do to beef? 

Cook and serve 

 

You sold 60K, it's funny, nobody cares 

Miss Ninety Percent is taking 20, nobody cares 

That's $480 worth of money, nobody cares 

50 percent go to Johnny, nobody cares 

That's $240 worth of loot dawg, nobody cares 

Tell Cinematic come recoup dawg, nobody cares 

$150 budget down in $90, ooh Lord, nobody cares 

I made $114, that's more than you dawg, fuck outta here! 

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