Lyrics Money Spree - 67, Dimzy, LD

Money Spree

Got peng tings throwing up 6
All the fans in the crowd all throwing up 6
We still trap, we still bruck down a brick
Invest in loads of sticks
Music money, that shit’s piling
We make racks off all these hits
All my 60s get money, racks in the bank
Notes and coins and tings
Got peng tings throwing up 6
All the fans in the crowd all throwing up 6
We still trap, we still bruck down a brick
Invest in loads of sticks
Music money, that shit’s piling
We make racks off all these hits
All my 60s get money, racks in the bank
Notes and coins and tings
Have the crowd in Bristol
Throwing up 6 and that
Fans show love so we show them back
67, we lurk on the map
Won a Rated Award
Now we’re tryna bring our MOBOs back
Best Newcomer, keep voting that
Came a long way, yeah, you know like that?
I’m on
So mind how approaching man
And I still skeng man for my 60s gang
Sticks and that
Push corn in clips and that
Big skeng, watch it go click-clack
Then go bang, bang, bang, bang, bang
It’s mad
Girls just wanna have fun
I just wanna have fun too
Peng tings screaming out gang
They know that we drill and we trap too
Left the opps dem fucked
Come like the girls that we run through
I was doing road with bro
And still brucking down bricks like kung fu
Drillers, on drilling
Known in the UK like shillings
Still trap out the block with the minions
Had the 25 shot on my waist
I weren’t looking for normal civilians
I just saw me a opp and picked him
Turned a suspect to a victim
When the Luger nine ripped him
67, the family
67, the gang
Booked out shows and get them bands
And we got cats fiending for smack
Let me take it way back
We was baking off in the trap
Hella skengs in the room
Smoking weed like it’s cazh
25 in that MAC
Opps best pray to God they don’t lack
Loads of love from the fans
Crowds in the club move mad
White girls see me, their skin turns red
They say that «your music’s fab»
All my brodies flip work
Free my savage hittas in the can
Shake it, shake it
Big batty, girl, shake it
Two bricks of ammi and man break it
I’m juuging, juuging till I make it
Free my bros locked, I can’t take it
Big guns, they ain’t in the basement
44 alone, you can’t take it
Know but I’m bait, I can’t face it
Still gang gang, I can’t change it
Remember days locked up on basic
67, we drillers
My niggas mash work on the pavement
25 with the cowboy
Man ain’t really tryna graze him
Man ain’t tryna talk to a fed
Nah, I ain’t writing no statement
I put food on scales
And I make music sales
I get love from the brown skin girls
Love from the white and Asian girls
We’re the most hated opps
All the pagan girls wanna lurk as well
Really, it’s authentic
'Nuff times we pulled up two Ls
Spinner, bands in it, 12s
This corn will take you out of this world
50 shots in that mop
This mop will clean the scene very well
Feds want me in jail
They want me rotting off in them cells
Still making my sales
They’re pissed we’re making history as well
Got peng tings throwing up 6
All the fans in the crowd all throwing up 6
We still trap, we still bruck down a brick
Invest in loads of sticks
Music money, that shit’s piling
We make racks off all these hits
All my 60s get money, racks in the bank
Notes and coins and tings
Got peng tings throwing up 6
All the fans in the crowd all throwing up 6
We still trap, we still bruck down a brick
Invest in loads of sticks
Music money, that shit’s piling
We make racks off all these hits
All my 60s get money, racks in the bank
Notes and coins and tings