The Trophy Room - Statik Selektah, Skyzoo, Ea$y Money

I’m on my Stan Phil, little stubborn to say the least

Know I stand still, no budgin' and no crease

Know the plan still, it’s turn 1 into 5

You literally see the double start to comin' alive

Come alive like heart rates, followed by a car chase

Chris Rock selfies with a top 5 arms race

Moncler skullies pulled over like cover ups

On the up and up, all the bottoms all Balmain

So even a robbery is expensive

Fly guy etiquette, my niggas get extensive

Abide by peddle, a homage from off the benches

And find mine buried in solemnly by the trenches

Bed-Stuy's version of Nas, no mirage

Freeze y’all on speed dials, the murder squads

From where the arms echo like they hear the falsetto

While I’m in here with a Mimi, forreal’ll hold a rod

That’s like 3 lines in one couplet

So that’s 312 like I’m callin' Cabrini

Or 23 on the Ouija, predicted the rings

And bein' fitted for rings is the only thing we in touch with

Shit I’m just tryna fill a trophy room

I’m just tryna fill a trophy room

Until it’s no mothafuckin' room left

Shit I’m just tryna fill a trophy room

Everything just feels so perfect

I’m on top of the world

Top of the world

On top of the world

Closet full of kicks, the lot is full of whips

Sippin' nothin' but the finest bottles of the Myx

Tryna see it all 'fore I lie up in a ditch

No takin' it with me, fuck depositing my chips

They bite a nigga’s dick

Cause when I get bored I take a model for a trip

But go dine up in the Ritz

Why would I hide it if I’m rich?

I’ma show off

Forreal, why you think Statik signed me to the clique?

Fuck you, pay me, least I said it to 'em nicely

Hate me, I reflect 'em, sendin' miss precisely

We put them grands in Jacksons to the safe

Cause of Washingtons, we spendin' them with wifey

Remember that?

Thought you seen the end of that

But we carry tradition, what would be the sense in that?

Take though from Ea$y, might as well send it back

Got goons everywhere, where you gon' spend it at?

I’m done with the scramblin', pack handlin'

Shook the Ds like big titty bitch dancin'

If I get my chance in, I’m advancin'

For the clique, kill shit like Charles and get my mans in

You heard?

But I’m just tryna fill the trophy room

Said I’m just tryna fill the trophy room

'Til I can’t step foot up in that bitch, forreal

I’m just tryna fill the trophy room

Everything just feels so perfect

I’m on top of the world

Top of the world

On top of the world

This is beautiful, ain’t it?

All these feelings of nostalgia ain’t new to you, ain’t it?

I did this shit already, my niggas, viewing is tainted

But watch I still kill it all through whatever arrangements

Got a shot, long range, Danny Ainge 'em

I can’t blame 'em, I transport the message like Jason Statham

Sleep is minimal, perspiration, elevated

Rippin' shit easy like perforation

Soon they gon' hold for investigation

More soul than your grandma cookin'

I wonder, got 'em hooked like I know what you did

Last summer, it’s a bummer tryna step to me

Bein' black right now, stressin' me

I’ll shoot the sheriff and the deputy

Smokin' mad weed so this shit do not get the best of me

Stirrin' up your mental currents, word, I got the recipe

Herbs, you just speakin', man, I’m more show and prove

No jewelry, stack my gold in my trophy room

On top of the world

It’s funny how things change

When you came from nothin'

Now the world knows your name

It feels so good to be livin' this life

Cause we worked so hard for what we want, right

Everything just feels so perfect

I’m on top of the world

Top of the world

On top of the world

Bars!

What’s goin' on?

Drop the beat!

I need a beat!

Fuck it!

No beat, acapella

Lookin' at some Jordans, where’s the fuckin' Pippins?

Age be comin' in the booth, you know I’m straight spittin'

With the soundproof linens, comin' through, gettin' it

Martha Stewart… shit am I rappin' like RiFF RAFF right now?

Laughter

Larry Bird shoes, goin' through ballin'