Lyrics Blood Pit - 67, Dimzy, Monkey

Blood Pit

Kway, kway with a hard pack
Big cutters in the bando
Got crack rocks, servin'
Choppin' up at the table
No one open the curtains
67, that’s gang shit
Big cutters that we fuck with
Leave a man in the blood pit
Leave a man in the blood pit
Two bells in that 12
Four-doors and blikkys
Welcome to London City
Trespassin', don’t be silly
Make you fly from young and drilly
Like Ross I need a milli
Business settings like I’m Diddy
New Park, that’s home like Meek in Philly
Two Ls up, drillers committee
Get you some money, my guy, why you so lippy?
Step out in VVS with bros, we come out drippy
Got off phone call one day and onsight left an opp drippy
Hella kwengins (Yeah)
They done by us, not them, put waps in tracks, that’s shellings
Slap out man’s headback
Then back home we headed
Bro wrapped a pumpkin in the past and left him swellin'
Kway, kway with a hard pack
Miles away with some junkies
Big cutters in the bando
For anybody tryna rozz me
Got crack rocks, servin'
Choppin' up at the table
No one open the curtains
67, that’s gang shit
It’s been years and we still run shit
Big cutters that we fuck with
Leave a man in the blood pit
Young G wanna work
Send him cunch, make him twerk
Two bells in that 12
Double-tap, make you learn
I’m still out here livin'
Niggas try get me down but their heart weren’t in it
Ever since then, though, I gotta stay with it
Rise them guns, that’s stabbings and drillings
You can’t ever question me cah if we see an opp we’ll kill him
Still out 'ere winnin'
And if I catch case I’ma buss that case, God willin'
Just unlocked my nigga Jigga J from Brixton Prison
Sometimes I do it baitface, niggas prayin' that my face be hidden
So mind how you step with my opps
'Cause you could get done up with them
'018 see me in the ceiling whizzing
You gonna hear the back wheels skiddin'
I’m gonna miss him
Have my bitch in my German drippin'
Take her back to the gaff and then I dick it
Flavours smellin' like party, yes, I’m billin'
Kway, kway with a hard pack
Miles away with some junkies
Big cutters in the bando
For anybody tryna rozz me
Got crack rocks, servin'
Choppin' up at the table
No one open the curtains
67, that’s gang shit
It’s been years and we still run shit
Big cutters that we fuck with
Leave a man in the blood pit
Young G wanna work
Send him cunch, make him twerk
Two bells in that 12
Double-tap, make you learn
Italian sweater, Valentino sneakers
More time Jordans and Nikes on my feet
I don’t wear Adidas
I can make racks off traps and shows
I can make racks off features
Waps on the corner, smoke like shisha
But you don’t wanna feel that beater
More time I smoke on cookie
But I still smoke on the best amnesia
Just spoke to bro on the wing and he’s doin' up cleaner, let me get deeper
Feds done a sweep or clean up
Now hella man want freedom
But we’re still out 'ere like stones in the wap
How much more can we fuckin' teach them?
Long time I see that opp, man still wanna blow out his hat
And long time I see that bitch
Now I dashed when I blew out her back
Cuttin' up all these racks, but I need 100 banked
Still need more new waps, and I need platinum plaques
Kway, kway with a hard pack
Miles away with some junkies
Big cutters in the bando
For anybody tryna rozz me
Got crack rocks, servin'
Choppin' up at the table
No one open the curtains
67, that’s gang shit
It’s been years and we still run shit
Big cutters that we fuck with
Leave a man in the blood pit
Young G wanna work
Send him cunch, make him twerk
Two bells in that 12
Double-tap, make you learn
Kway, kway with a hard pack
Big cutters in the bando
Got crack rocks, servin'
Choppin' up at the table
No one open the curtains
67, that’s gang shit
Leave a man in the blood pit