[Blade Brown:]
The state of the game is a tragedy
Everybody’s licking shots, everybody’s bagging B
They say I wrap raw casually
Real talk I really had a nigga up in casualty
And nah I ain’t talking ’bout the series
Feel free to ask me, I’m addressing all your queries
And darg I only roll with a couple bruddas
Most man are clowns they remind me of the Chuckle Brothers
And yeah my family’s tight
Just B, Dre and C, I could name a couple others
But I ain’t baiting up names
It’s bad enough I’m on the road baiting up ‘caine
After a hard day’s work darg
I’m ringing up Keisha, I’m rating that brain
But nah back to the subject
Most of the niggas on this rap ting are suspect
You never see them on the strip late
Sweardown fam I can’t listen to these mixtapes
They say they’re all on the grind
I get that peng yeah I call it the shine
Because it glistens in the light
This is real talk don’t listen to the hype
Every time I spit it’s like I’m christening the mic
These niggas must be smoked when they’re kissing on the pipe
[Giggs:]
Move so scatty in life
Stuck in the traphouse packaging white
Look to the left of me, the matic’s in sight
Clip’s loaded up, proper smack it in right
My strategy’s nice
Look for a hottie on a Saturday night
I was looking ravaged that night
Boogs kinda shocking with the Adidas stripe
Got rounds in the strap cocked
I come round have your town under mad lock
And I ain’t come round for a slap job
I come round, I’ll be sounding the mac off
Take all your hats off
Got the whole rap game in a padlock
And I ain’t playing with you fags ’cause
It could end bloodstains on your laptop
Cocaine I done bagged lots
Gotta link a duss head round Bagshot
There’s a yellow sign up on the corner
Asking anyone if they saw who stabbed Bob
Don’t say that I’m wack ’cause
You’ve got Hollowman playing in your rag top
Plus I got your princess in my flat dog
Balls in her mouth, call it a sack job
[Dubz:]
More hype, why?
Cause I fucked your baby momma
Marmite, why?
Love me or hate me brudda
Underrate me ima
Still make my butter
Snowflakes in summer
I’m an A-Class shover, not the Mercedes
Couple eights I’ll plug up in your girlfriend’s buttocks
Or her purse maybe
Pull up in a car at the curb she’ll leave
I might bring a couple dargs to your territory
Fuck the metaphors B
Cheap ass nigga you’ll get peppered for free
As for stepping on feet? Steel-toe caps
So when I step on the street I pay no tax
Feds mentioning me? You don’t know man
‘Cause the nitties they need me like coke cans
Probation don’t see me, don’t show fam
‘Cause I’m peddling diesel, that dope man
Look, now it’s time that I think I get my dick polished
Hit the club unshaven, Rick Ross ish
Plus the coke’s unshaven, big boss ish
And the colt just came in, Giggs’s promise
So you better just hide your goods
‘Cause I’m better with this 9 iron than Tiger Woods
Let me show you the real meaning of time flying inside the shoobz
Get your watch popped and your shine took by minor crooks
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