Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Crudd Central, artist - Ghetts. Album song Momentum 2, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 04.04.2016
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Believe
Song language: English
Crudd Central |
Like that, yeah? |
Ayy, this next one, 'Crudd Central' |
The central of crudd |
You already know who it is |
It’s myself, Unique, the one and only |
Oh, you think darkness is your ally. |
But you merely adopted the dark; |
I was born in it, moulded by it. |
I didn’t see the light until I was already a |
man, by then it was nothing to me but blinding! |
Back on the violence |
The Homicide Writer, rhymes that I’m reviving |
Mask on my face like I’m Bane in The Dark Knight Rises |
Insane on a dark night, rising |
Something that’ll damage you |
Don’t go down that avenue |
This route will show bullets, I could have in you |
See, I could switch to an attitude |
Go wild with a mask I’m Crash Bandicoot |
Or Jim Carey |
Kick back’s mad, haffi lift something heavy |
One touch like the iPhone |
I’ll have your eyes closed, thinking you’re bold like a ‘berry? |
I’ll open your dome on your belly |
I’ll have you resting, put you in a casket resting |
Under the soil you’ll rest in |
I’ll put you in a deep sleep, inception |
No offence, but I don’t play well with others |
Yeah, yeah, now I don’t care-a |
One bang, knock off your breh’s New Era |
Who better? |
You never, too clever |
Hugh Heffer, Playboy, true fella |
Yeah, I’m like who are you, bredda? |
Sixteen show you who can do better |
Right now, I don’t care no more |
Bullshit, I don’t wanna hear no more |
I swear these niggas so fucking shit |
I can’t swear no more (oi Ghetts) |
I’m in a back alley with a black yatty |
Fat batty, I’mma tear those off (bam) |
Then order some gun holsters |
Put a pair of those on (yeah, yeah) |
Fam, spray a sixteen |
Kill two MCs that year, then I’m gone |
Bring me everyone. |
EVERYONE! |
Bullets fly from 0 to 100 in London |
Last year 2000 lungs were punctured |
So many gunmen surrounding the circumference |
These bruddas are stumbling |
If the .45 weren’t about, I would’ve stuck it in (no homo) |
And left him suffering |
Until a passer-by discovered him, covered in blood |
Cousin, I will tuck you in, brudda it’s love |
Take a look at what the government’s done |
So stressed out, I was plucking him up |
Six months later, I was in cuffs |
Put me on G-wing, punched up a gov |
Man better leave it before he gets slumped |
Roachee was moving like he was on drugs |
Oh my goodness, has he got a gun? |
Them times I was in the ghetto having fun like |
Tek the wah and left the wah? |
You sound like a pussyhole |
Day job, slang ounce |
Can’t put my daughter in hand-me-downs |
Had a likkle work, I slapped and banged him out |
Owe me couple bags? |
Pussyhole rang me out |
Ready when I hear my enemies dem about |
TI ting, bring 'em out, bring 'em out |
Lick down a witness, hanging out |
Born and bred East boy but I’m not a chav |
That’s a contender then |
Big SO Large will launch an attack |
Rise my ting, dem nuh wan' me do that |
When your life’s gone and-a you can’t get it back |
Check one of my dons, I’ll get dark in a flash |
Grime tempo, stop talking jazz |
Unplug my headphone, me nuh wan' hear that |
Top shottas are back |
They think I par with Max |
Wonder how my pocket dem so fat |
What? |
You wan' know the answer to that? |
No artist ah put plants in a flat |
Extractor fan mek the smell hard fi come out |
Been jail before, must think I wan' fi go back |
Put in so much work, cut me some slack |
Cut so many bruddas, they wanna cut me back |
So I stay sober, who’s gonna watch me back? |
Aww you motherfuckers, okay… |
Yeah, it’s effortless, still |
I’m a hot boy, stop telling me chill |
Think that we ain’t got toys like Smyths |
Don’t think that I won’t, rudeboy, cos I will |
I’m a Fresh Prince, ask Uncle Phil |
Back in the jungle where it gets real |
Them YGs ain’t adults, your laptop’s Apple |
It might get peeled |
Rah, that’s what it’s like in the field |
We’ll get the bikes out and ride for the thrill |
Too much pride, we ain’t letting shit slide |
I bet you’ll recognise when the knife’s in your grill |
Yeah, better start writing your will |
Me, I don’t write, I describe I feel |
It’s dear life, we due to start riots |
I’m a hot nigga, stop telling me chill |
And we’ll murder every last pussyclart one of dem |
When the pump-act kick your frame back with the impact |
No part of your torso will be intact |
Head, legs, ARMS all over the place |
Lungs, liver, GUTS all over your face |
I’m a dangerous goon |
Man know me, I’m a dangerous loon |
You wanna run up your mouth with a man like me? |
I’ll cock back and make it boom |
What d’you know about shanking a man? |
When he hit the floor, quickly stamp on a man |
You see me, fam? |
I don’t ramp with a man |
I will bounce on his head like I’m skanking on man |
Blow your whole head back |
With a .45, AK or a MAC |
You don’t wanna see the Hitman in attack |
I will keep squeezing till the lights turn black |
That little bitch need to die |
That little bitch need to go on and die |
You want irony son? |
It’s what I see when I’ve set fire to a fireman’s truck, |
what the fuck am I relying on? |
None |
I am what you see, I’m still not sure what I’m trying to become |
Quiet when I speak |
I’ve got a buzz bigger than a hive full of bees |
OK, here I come |
Think on your feet, time that I feed |
I’ma climb from your screen like the girl from The Grudge |
Wanna ask me why I’m going on fucked? |
I’ve gotta be prick, I’m in a world full of cunts |
Oi, where’s Devz? |
The world’s on my nuts |
That’s why I’m bringing hell when I buss |
Devil in the kid with the venom in his tongue |
Vent flame from my lungs, been sent from the slums to become |
More messed in the brain than Bane on cocaine |
I came to leave Bruce Wayne slumped |
I’m as mad as as hell and I’m not going to take this any more! |
I like fire, I’m a live wire |
I’m silent but man have got knives like Mike Myers |
Open a man’s headtop wide open |
Cause I wanna see how his mind’s wired |
Can’t get rich off a nigga like I |
You can bet your last 50 pence you’ll die trying |
Tony Stark, my only darg |
Dem cyan’t see me without this iron |
He said I ain’t real, he’s lying |
In fact, let me run this by him |
If I shoot you, I’m brainless |
If you shoot me, you’re famous |
Cause you’re the man behind Justin dying |
Word to Tigger |
10 stacks on the head of a worthless nigga |
Young boy, certi killer |
Might buy a Rolex from the work you put in yesterday |
My man couldn’t purchase it and all the gyal dem saying that he’s worth a look |
in |
I tell em pull something out on the burbs and push it |
And now it’s curtains (PUSSY!) |
But it ain’t none of my business, I’m Kermit (PUSSY!) |
Now look at you, was it worth it? |
(PUSSY!) |
I don’t know what to say, the only word is (PUSSY!) |
Oh shit |
You know I ain’t gotta do too much speaking |
You must set the levels |
Levels are high, motherfuckers better know |