So, what you know about poverty Drugs and armed robbery Thugs that are obviously not drama quality? Because on road, it’s real All actors get killed
So, what you know about poverty Drugs and armed robbery Thugs that are obviously not drama quality? Because on road, it’s real All actors get killed
I’m from a place where Niggas wanna place bredders The same year that pussy got smoked like [?] Bus drivers not moving because the youngers won’t pay fare Younger sibling with older brothers that ain’t there Because he’s knocked down for eight summers, it ain’t rare I can name mothers that ain’t there So the kids run wild Catch cases, can’t buss child But land road to a stack of papers in a [?] pile All I’m trying to do is make my mum smile But I’m trapped in a cycle Gotta clap back with the strap, it isn’t my fault That prats wanna act like they’re bad Then the mums and the dads are sad Because I hit ’em up like Guy Fawkes As a young nigga, crime was all I did beside sports So, if I weren’t spitting It could’ve been prison or Sky Sports You fakes say “you ain’t a thug living, you’re quite forced”
So, what you know about poverty Drugs and armed robbery Thugs that are obviously not drama quality? Because on road, it’s real All actors get killed
So, what you know about poverty Drugs and armed robbery Thugs that are obviously not drama quality? Because on road, it’s real All actors get killed
I ain’t been around the world But I get around and sell Crack, weed, brown as well Stack g’s, hard to swell I used to sell cars but then I got locked down and fell Came out, I switched my hustle Like I lost the keys and found the scales I’m from a place where the sound of shells are loud as hell Under the key, you’re bound to melt Fucking with me, I’ll make you shout for help You’re lucky you’re sweet and only out for girls So, what do you know about gun crime? It’s blood on the streets After every shooting, it’s trident with frontline