| Two L, two-three, we saw those sirens |
| Get the drop, slime him, call it «blood diamonds» |
| VVS on flick, have to combine them |
| Dumb yat put brick in the wrong Pyrex, yuck |
| Broad day on the crash, I brought the hi-vis |
| On the block with the gang for all the timers |
| And know I’m high risk |
| Got oppers gettin' pressured like my diamonds did |
| Hella man just pree, they’re not that violent |
| And my gang just rep my block I ride in |
| Ain’t a four-five thing, it’s a Star 9 thing |
| He’s not providin', he’s on a shy thing |
| (Dickhead) |
| More oppers to pick the block, dividin' |
| But they’re all hidin' cah we’re all glidin' |
| Bine 'em, bine 'em, fuck the wrong timin', knife him, slime him |
| Leave the machine in the council flat |
| If there’s opps on the block, then hung up the wap |
| Wouldn’t have trusted a cat, bet that bitch is tapped |
| And you turned angel, no cap |
| Lift up your hat, bullet |
| Whack, we aim for corpse and watch all the chat |
| Reverse and slap, bullet |
| Whack, 2−0-2−3's 'bout to get mad |
| Lit up (Lit up, lit up, lit up) |