Lyrics Soak Your Throat - Lucii, Turk

Soak Your Throat

I’m a hothead when I’m on this ped
I’m riding to leave man ghost
I’ve never been bucked live O
But i still never run cos im way too slow
I’m a big billy turk in the field
I’ll grip on my steel and soak your throat
I’m with so many shanks on road
How could this flicky ever go broke
I don’t think you know
65 yanks for a kilo of crow
Big boy blades and menthol smoke
Clip full of mints to send out a blow
Shut down parties we don’t dance
4 hour motive and aim for the hoes
We shut down functions
And rip through coats (Ying)
I’m filling the air with smoke
But I’m not getting this smoke from roach
Catch man slipping then give him a poke
Then pray to the devil when I go home
Pree them slowly and watch them go
Back out my spinner and watch them blow
I’m psychotic I need me a soul
So when we gliding we don’t take phones
They say I’m tapped in the head
Young a6 got zero meds
They ride out tryna leave us man red
We riding tryna leave them man dead
Shout Lucii when I need me a chetes
Or shout GhostFace when I need me a skeng
Cats shout me when they free for leng
I’m stuck in the T with Bob and Ben
Block 6 gang thats violent men
But in the station we’re silent men
Fuck all the opps put knives in them
I don’t even know who’s hyping them
They wanted beef so we’re frying them
Waps and shanks we ain’t fighting them
Up that stick we keep lying bends
Thats crying mums and crying friends
I got tizz in the field he’s wrecky
He might pull out your lung (Splash)
Or it might be a kidney
I don’t think he cares what one (No, he don’t)
MK soaked up ******* dad
And he soaked his son
All of the mandem psycho
We can’t be to close to a gun
What the fuck you mean about bootcars
We made your bredrin off his goose
I done steeped on a semis head I left my jordans looking Loubs
With 5 man up, you’re 5 gangs up, you still ain’t scored thats truth
You’re making me laugh
Go ride for your goon
(Still on my strip you know where it is, the only smoke you got is 6,
no wonder why you dont skid, round here we got waps, round here you’ll get bun,
round here you don’t come, round here.
come, come, come play my game)
Come play my game no GTA no Russian roulette
I’ll put the wap to your wig and blow your brain right out of your head
Big reece is sending but he lives in north kway outta the ends
The only times you been round here is a music vid of your victim friends
Step correct and bro don’t lack
I’m just like Jay, I’ll fish out backs
You stay at home and do not leave my bro
No wonder why you sit back
(These gangs you link with won’t save you when we back our burners,
you could be 1 man up or a hudred man it will still be curtains)
I guess it’s the bunny season
Step round there intentions to leave man bleeding
My heart gone cold its more than freezing
Lucii love leave man leaking
Back out a dotty and shoot for limbs
Hope to send an opp boy for swim
Young demon, suttin like dizz
You don’t wanna know what’s on
Now I hit it might be a '38 spin
I guess it has a '44 kick
Just hope I don’t get nicked
Still dishing out ying and yang
Patch come fat like po
All of the mandem are cancer in our ends
My g’s have them man pouring out morgan
None of my paigons haunt me
But demons still fuck with my conscience
Mandem smoke your friend on a constance
(Heard your boys touched me, that’s nonsense, but I still left your guy
unresponsive, like Mo Salah, great performnance)
I’m a hothead when I’m on this ped
I’m riding to leave man ghost
I’ve never been bucked live O
But i still never run cos im way too slow
I’m a big billy turk in the field
I’ll grip on my steel and soak your throat
I’m with so many shanks on road
How could this flicky ever go broke
I don’t think you know
65 yanks for a kilo of crow
Big boy blades and menthol smoke
Clip full of mints to send out a blow
Shut down parties we don’t dance
4 hour motive and aim for the hoes
We shut down functions
And rip through coats (Ying)