The Locker Room Statik Selektah (Ft. Dave East)

[Produced by: Statik Selektah]

[Verse 1: Dave East]
Coming from the bottom floor
Now we in the Prada Store
Couple bands on me homie
Soul probably got some more
Real niggas love me unconditional, ain't gotta talk
Even got the driver blowing sour, we ain't gotta walk
Started as a lookout, then I got my own work
Accountable as paper after school, that was my homework
Text wasn't going through, I don't think this phone work
Now I got my own shirt, I really did my own dirt
Same niggas hating, same niggas want a picture now
Freaky always on my mind, it's hard to put the liquor down
Loose spots for raw, 2Pac Shakur, I get around
Snapbacks, no more fitted now, I brought some hitters round
To silence the whispers and the side talk
Really from the streets, my first cousin is the sidewalk
I stopped hearing gossip the minute the pilots fly off
Stay in your lane, you missed your exit, you shoulda got off
I just want a Audemars, cuban and a foreign car
Say I've got them black bottles, they thinking we own the bar
I was out grindin, you was playstation, Tony Hawk
No cab fare, could only walk through this lonely dark Harlem
This for Carver, Jeff Wilson, AK's
11, 99, Johnson Taft, they make cake
Blowing exotic in the tropics in a linnen shirt
Harlem till I'm in the dirt, leave these niggas feelings hurt