| My skin colour ain’t nothing to make light of
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| We’re all the same colour when you turn the light off
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| If you don’t wanna hear this then turn the mic off
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| I drive women crazy I left your bitch a write-off
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| Only if the head’s right
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| I forget her name you know what it gets like
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| Like my whiskey sour, with no egg white
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| Rolling up a big spliff sipping on a Red Stripe
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| My bread’s sweet, I got that hard dough
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| Making it look easier, you make it look harder
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| If I’m ordering food I ain’t calling up Ocado
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| Might fling it in an Uber but I got a couple car though
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| AMG GT S it up and down the road you might see me wet it
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| Your lines like coke that I keep re-pressing
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| My rhymes like coke that I keep repressing
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| Where’s the Merc, I thought you were mashing work
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| Ping ping I thought you were clapping thing
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| Where’s the cash, I thought you was in the trap
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| And what’s with all the front 'cause ain’t nobody got your back
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| Look, the place I’m from ain’t nothing to make light off
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| Ride around and turn your lights off
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| Aww you wanna play, you know no gangsta
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| The flip it back, ride around and turn your lights off
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| Cutting through the city, big body Benz
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| Talking to Pro Green about cuttin' ends
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| Every time they see us in the streets they’re like there they go
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| Got my bro looking out the window like «that's one of them»
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| What’s with all the gossip, what’s with all the chat
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| If we pull up to the front they’re running out the back
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| You know that I’m getting money, you know that’s a fact
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| With my tools on you know how the goons are
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| Spray spray we about to take the roof off
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| Then I shoot off in a new car
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| It’s easy, you’re making it look too hard
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| Slow down, you’re taking this shit too far
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| Where’s the Merc, I thought you were mashing work
|
| Ping ping I thought you were clapping thing
|
| Where’s the cash, I thought you was in the trap
|
| And what’s with all the front 'cause ain’t nobody got your back
|
| Got your back, got your back
|
| Ain’t nobody got your back
|
| Ain’t nobody got your back
|
| Got your back, got your back
|
| Ain’t nobody got your back
|
| So what’s with all the front?
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| I got that hard shit, download it and bang it in your car shit
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| Give me the spliff yeah I’m past it
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| Crack shy but I’m plastered, I ain’t a
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| But everywhere I go I get my arse kicked
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| See a fan give them a hug though
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| Don’t give a fuck though 'less I wanna fuck though
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| Give you a quick spud tell you it’s all love bro
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| I couldn’t give a fuck if you got hit by a bus though
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| I buy in bulk, Costco
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| Umbro, I will soccer if she cost though
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| Love? |
| No. Me I just run through it
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| Everything is custom I’m accustomed to it
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| Work
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| Where’s the Merc, I thought you were mashing work
|
| Ping ping I thought you were clapping thing
|
| Where’s the cash, I thought you was in the trap
|
| And what’s with all the front 'cause ain’t nobody got your back
|
| Got your back, got your back
|
| Ain’t nobody got your back
|
| Ain’t nobody got your back
|
| Got your back, got your back
|
| Ain’t nobody got your back
|
| So what’s with all the front? |