Lyrics The Blue - P Money, Rocket, Little Dee

The Blue

Snowy Danger
Gringo king
Danger, whoa, well then, move
Oi, geezer, don’t get fresh
I don’t wanna get vexed, box on your chest
I don’t wanna get vexed, box on your chops
Box on your headback, write out your socks
Write out your speakers, write out your tweeters
Something for the grafters, something for the dealers
Something for the taxman, I’m putting in work
Something for your wifey, something for your dirt
Something for the road guys hitting them roads
Something for the shooters letting shit go
Something for the bossman cutting them cheques
Got bars for the gym man hitting them reps
Lyrics for the mandem, lyrics for the girls
Snowy go hard, no, my lyrics don’t fail
Snowy go in, I do damage
I rep Paper, my whole team’s savage
Yo, who’s on top?
We got the styles and P like Lox
Yeah, man’s hungry, been from early
Don’t make me snap, crackle, pop
Ain’t nuttin' new, blood run blue
Came out the blue, came out the blocks
Man got the blue, make haters blue
Man, Nivea blue, we’re cream of the crop
Yo, who’s on top?
We got the styles and P like Lox
Yeah, man’s hungry, been from early
Don’t make me snap, crackle, pop
Ain’t nuttin' new, blood run blue
Came out the blue, came out the blocks
Man got the blue, make haters blue
Man, Nivea blue, we’re cream of the crop, yeah
Yo, more money, more money, dreaming of more money
I need a crib with about three floor money
I’ve got my money but I need your money
And I want no more breaking the law money
They’re stressed and weighin' dough money
I’ve got maybe but I need sure money
Christian Dior tracksuit, Velour money
And the mandem on tour money
Plus, a Richard Milly on my wrist money
I need «nah, he’s taking the piss» money
Wiley threw me the keys to the Bentley
I’m driving about like I need some of this money
Love money, hug money, kiss money
Fuck C B, I need A-list money
Nah, this ain’t Lord of the Mics
I’m OGz for life so I dare man diss Money
Yo, who’s on top?
We got the styles and P like Lox
Yeah, man’s hungry, been from early
Don’t make me snap, crackle, pop
Ain’t nuttin' new, blood run blue
Came out the blue, came out the blocks
Man got the blue, make haters blue
Man, Nivea blue, we’re cream of the crop
Yo, who’s on top?
We got the styles and P like Lox
Yeah, man’s hungry, been from early
Don’t make me snap, crackle, pop
Ain’t nuttin' new, blood run blue
Came out the blue, came out the blocks
Man got the blue, make haters blue
Man, Nivea blue, we’re cream of the crop, yeah
I ain’t got a job
I did it myself, there ain’t a soul that I borrowed off
If we ain’t friends, stop sending me your videos
I’m only going if I wanna watch
If you wanna follow me, then follow on
But I’m going off-roads, let me see you follow off
Claiming you rep worldwide, but in the credits
Man’s city’s getting left back like Kolarov
That’s all Clichy, cliché
I bet he didn’t catch the follow-on
Punch in the face, ain’t sure if I’ll do it
Got the bottle in the thigh, you’ve been playing with the Molotov
Real talk
Tell him I’ll dance for dessert if I wanna waff
Eff your CD and the feds, I don’t wanna cop
Acting shirty till they all get collared off
Yo, who’s on top?
We got the styles and P like Lox
Yeah, man’s hungry, been from early
Don’t make me snap, crackle, pop
Ain’t nuttin' new, blood run blue
Came out the blue, came out the blocks
Man got the blue, make haters blue
Man, Nivea blue, we’re cream of the crop
Yo, who’s on top?
We got the styles and P like Lox
Yeah, man’s hungry, been from early
Don’t make me snap, crackle, pop
Ain’t nuttin' new, blood run blue
Came out the blue, came out the blocks
Man got the blue, make haters blue
Man, Nivea blue, we’re cream of the crop, yeah