(Ahhh let’s get ready to rumble)
(Mubz Got Beats)
(Caskie on the beat)
Yah, Izzy and Camden
Sure, I’m a little bit Cockney
He ain’t ever seen a hundred bags
Boy, talk to me properly
All pissed cah your girlfriend want me
Actin’ like this shit new, but I coulda made a visit in Onley
Coulda had a chopper named ‘Pumpy’
It’s pub talk nigga, I’m poppy
We the only niggas doin’ this in this
Like a beg man, look at my pinkie?
Can’t even fit on my pinky
All that bullshit better just miss me
It’s G-Unit And I’m 50
Can ask Roman, you can ask Whiskey
From young I been doin’ it risky
What? You know 12 like 6p
Uh, that’s eighteen bitches, wait
Let me do the maths quickly
Quick maths, I’ma be there shortly
Trap-smart, what G man taught me
Think large, what a Ramz done taught me
Decide fast, what Frank done taught me
Big bars, what Preston done taught me
What SP taught me
Done it all when they saw me
Now I let my actions do the talk for me
My lifer friends, they still call me
Can’t compare, the man corny
Don’t gon’ die tryna do it for the viewers or clout
Cah it won’t be worth the try
And I know that I’m a wanted guy
Keep a barrel that spins like the London eye
I don’t know who’s who
I’m tryna keep my eyes open like a yute that’s tired
I got my bally on, they still know it’s me
My head’s too big, there ain’t no good disguise
Them man there ain’t on, they just look the part
Me, I treat the G19 like in all my cars, push to start
Close-range chung, get whooshed from fa
Pull up and watch everybody push that dot
Get both love and hate in man’s city
They really tryna do me like Gundogan
I still slow drive through the opp block
Like I’m tryna look for a spot to park
Judge really gave Kash 8 for smokin’ a bit of the buut
That was a bit too harsh
Believe every day we step, one smoke in the ride
Gotta bring two arms
That’s 4 man in the ride, two dargs
Real Thug’s Life like Tupac
(Slay Product)
Really rap what I live
They see the truth
It’s me that’s writing it
Woulda thought that I dropped or sprained it
The way I put ice on it
Back then I woulda slapped his head
But now I’m too grown
Put a price on it
Lid off the pot, scrap that rock
There ain’t no rice in it
They think what for? Cah it’s waps galore
And you know that we’re nice with it
And if she’s pretty with swag and keeps it trill
I might be nice with it
Bags or shoes, I’ll put you in a brand-new coupe
Now why am I lying?
Rather spend it on waps
Put it on the block and show them it’s fryin’
Cah I’m done with them youths, they’re wooden
I mean, I’m done with them youths, they cudden
Cah I really get busy
Four in the door in a neutral bullet
Two hands born to trizzy
Them man don’t get the road ting fully
They’re just lyin’ and lyin’
Gotta stay away from Harrods
Any time I go I’m just buyin’ and buyin’
Gotta stay away from hammers
Any for sale, I’ll buy it, I’ll buy it
All of that talk, they don’t know about violence
Six in the spin, I’ll slide and fry ’em
I ain’t never done typin’
I was joogin’ from the start
I’m turnin’ joogin’ to an art
You think a nigga turn his phone off?
I was joogin’ in the dark
Wait, little nigga with a game-plan
I turned my trackie into name-brand
I was tellin’ bitches, “I’m a changed man”
Was cookin’, shootin’ with the same hand
Fuck, bitches get bread first
But when I fuck, bitches get head first
Trap talk for a while now
You never hear me spit a dead verse
You never hear me tell a lie once
They’re gonna phone me back if they try once
Couple workers got wrapped up
Had to fall back for nine months
Then it’s straight back to joog-mode
Never talk, that’s the hood code
I’m your famous trapper trapper
Nothin’ like a rapper
Trust me, man the hood knows
Made a killing off of buj O’s
In their veins where that buj goes
Bags and boxes that’s my legacy
If you didn’t then you should know
Bags and boxes that’s my legacy
If you didn’t then you should know
Let’s get ’em again, Headie
Yo, have you ever put all your bread into grass?
I really put my whole life on the phone
How can I be scared to be alone
It was minus degrees up north on my own
Have you ever had a blue tick on Insta’
Still got a neena, now it needs a whistler
I’ll still cop a smoke smoke, that’s even though I’m more of a drinker
Back where they use the dots that I linger
Or just pull up in the darks and linger
Really tryna leave man injured
Do another S and let it finish like Lingard
Ever been stuck in the wing with the niggas?
Buss caser and now you’re screaming “Free all the niggas”
I was splittin’ canteen with the niggas
Now I just gotta send p’s to the niggas
Have you ever had nothin’ but eight-ball to eat for your dinner?
Spent your whole Summer in the T with the keys
Then caught 5 in the reef for my dinner
Step with the spinners, I ain’t tryna be the one that bleeds in the winter
My old friends turned fishy, now I gotta keep to my distance
2 racks is deep in the T-house
And I got shmurda plendin’
If they kick this door in, I’ma have to serve a sentence
Saw them in a bando rushin’, tryna get in, them aren’t no stress
Me I spent all night deletin’ texts and askin’ bro what’s left
Never done loads online ’cause they know full well we step
How much times did we go and just make a mess, just laugh off back to the ends?
Keep one on the way back, anyone we see, let it burn from the ride
And free bro cah he done it, Deliveroo with a burger on a bike
And he heard that they were comin’
Bare live drumbings
Saw me one and spun it, I know why everyone’s runnin’
Gotta keep it cool, I can feel the maddest of obbo
Left up ’cause the trap sold out, I might go Harrods tomorrow
I don’t even try it, just buy it
Throw me a pack and I’ll fly it
And of course the guys still ridin’
Surprised the bros ain’t tired
And some **** them girls still out here
Surprised them hoes ain’t *****
Been talkin’ bricks for ages
I’m surprised these foreigns ain’t wired
My lifestyle’s BxB, that’s breakin’ bricks
How you think I’m takin’ trips?
Beverly Hills for the latest drip
Gotta look lit
Cah I know they’re watching, takin’ pics
I don’t give a shit, I’m in AOD with a Haitian chick
I think she knows that my bands are long
And she wan’ fuck me playin’ my song
Said I’m gonna take her shopping, she knows I’m lying, but she’s playin’ along
Told my young boy, “Fam, you got one more chance”
He’s under pressure, rushin’ the packs and weighin’ it wrong
I don’t give a fuck about streams, trap full fam, it’s full up with feens
Used to be all a dream, now I got 20 racks in my jeans
I’m in the gun range lettin’ off steam
Wait, slappin’ that, no, now I’m goin’ back to Cali
I told trap I’ll bring the Bali
Foreign ones upon the baddie
Afterparty in the valley
Twelve summers in a row
You can go and check the tally
Bad bitch up in the Range
And all she wants is Xannies
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Uh, I’m feelin’ loose right now
Think I might have just told them the truth right now
Cah I got a babes and my babes real buff
But it’s only matter of time ’til my boo finds out
Look at my life, what will you find out?
Spend a half of the beige on these shoes, man doubt
Still I got it rough
Fuckin’ with the plug but he ain’t givin’ man enough
Put in this fuckboy call-oot, then he gave a man too much, yeah
But that’s a trap dollar so you get trapped in it
Huh, why you think I’m tryna rap with it?
For my niggas on the wing, you couldn’t send a man nothing
I put the food up in the cling and then I’m wrappin’ it
Got 50 fuckin’ scores, that’s a rack innit?
Put the Henney in the blue and then I’m back in it
Huh, call out I’m tryna, yah, fire in the booth
Said fire in the booth
(The amount of money I’m about to be making would hurt your parents’ feelings)
(Remember the class where I taught you all how to make it rain?) Yeah
(That’s what I’ma be doing every single night) KO, K, yeah
Came off of them dope sales
Smashed pots and I broke scales
I don’t listen to them other rappers
Their struggle raps and their broke tales
All I talk is that bank roll
Pure white and that dank cro
Drop my brother a half a square
And he call me back and said “Thanks bro”
Get the money fast, sip the champs slow
‘Cause I’m Rocky Balboa, a champ flow
Fuck around, I don’t fuck around
You get a tracksuit full of shank holes
Niggas rappin’ for the sake of it
They wanna tape, I tell ’em wait a bit
They say I’m lazy but the game’s crazy
I don’t know what to make of it
Go studio, I break a brick
I don’t know nigga, take a pic
You phone my phone, I have 3 batches
You choose nigga, take your pic
And niggas rappin’ ’bout bandos
And you just live with your nan, bro
Calm down before niggas run up in there with mashers and rambos
I ain’t gotta talk becah man knows
Violations, no standoffs
I ain’t gotta talk becah man knows
Violations, no standoffs
Yeah
I don’t run off on plugs ’cause my street clout’s excellent
I used to come in a bando two pyrex’s
Window for the exit
Put the *********** all night
I slapped 50 bucks on a ‘lectric
I can fly it home for a monkey
Or like 15 hun if I stretch it
All the nigga knows it’s tetris
Start the kitchen cah it get’s hectic
Stir up the Este’s cah it get’s hectic
That’s me your bros tryna press it
Whole one came in ductape
But the razors let us undress it
Hammer and chiz for the tough one
With the wipes, our car gets messy
Young nigga paid off both
That’s music sales and ****
Heard something got toes for the toast
Me and bro are the toast
Come up town like every week
Scratching my head in Givenchy thinkin’ that I got every tee
And man can’t tell you about ours, I know by the dots in every suite
That’s Burgundy white and black
And green
Bitch tryna ******
By the time that this match got called off
The score’s like 15 nil
No Warnock, man ain’t gotta check that scoreboard
Jump up gang, don’t get yourself cornered
Clay gotta hold this Borough
Still gonna kick man’s door off, I ain’t gotta swing this sawn-off
Bro still jumps out **********, no he ain’t no chauffeur
These feds tryna find where the smoke, it’s gettin’ closer
And they got me in a interview room with the heavy asphalt
Now they want me in the can like cola
They want me spazzin’ my mates
Two hands on the skeng like a PS controller
Yeah, yeah
All I needed was a hammer
In the middle of the summer
Federali took my niggas out the manor
All my niggas riding banger
All my niggas know is pain, me I do the gain, I turn it to a banger
It’s gonna take me to the gaffer
They’ll introduce me to Rihanna
All that shoulda, coulda, woulda
If I coulda-coulda then I woulda had her
Another nigga on the hitlist
I got issues, she can fix it
Would you risk it for a biscuit?
Them boy ain’t even got a biscuit
The game is mine if I predict it
The ends was broke, I come to fix it
But they won’t tell you ’bout the shit bit
Like how I started with a lil’ bit
I turned that lil’ bit to a big bit
Them man can’t tell me ’bout the trizzy
Like uber alles to the city
And at the shop my niggas spitty
Like the plug ain’t tryna throw man 50
The end was poppin’, turned to history
But **** look at, they get busy
Yesterday we got the picky
******** if you miss me
(Ah, fuckin’ ‘ell mate)
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