| Fresh out the cage for a slaughter
|
| Damn, I was stunned when the case got brought up
|
| It’s just me and my bros like Warner
|
| Hold up, wait, let me take that corner
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| Burst in whip and replace that quarter
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| See how the weights transformer
|
| Back roads, TT and it’s crisp like Walker
|
| Bag full of whoosh but who’s the informer?
|
| Look, ding dong trips with t’ree-double-o's
|
| Don’t slip 'cause we lurk in order
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| There’s PCD’s with the Trident vests at my door but I ain’t no talker
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| The opps try come with a script got flipped and them boy wrote off, no author
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| I see bare man dust when they saw that Corsa
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| Splash, splash, bare Fiji water
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| Opp block trip with a bally, my bro got knicked with a boarer, boarer
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| Now he can’t fly out or move round the border
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| Cah he keep serving probation order
|
| Pass the ting over, the bread got watered
|
| Park the two blockies, now they got sorted
|
| Ugh, broski’s taking the piss, how you taking a pic with a waigon’s daughter?
|
| tried put me to test
|
| I hate when they ain’t tryna dish out a evs
|
| Man sit on remand and stress
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| Cah it ain’t a game, it’s life or death
|
| Fresh, fresh on a streets
|
| Man threw up the beef
|
| Any mash that I want, man gets
|
| The feds try knick me for what now?
|
| Hold up, that’s not me like Skep
|
| Look man know I got a tiny temper
|
| Lemme cool off, baby girl don’t stress
|
| I go STK then I call her
|
| Got two bills, she got two in her breast
|
| Hotel Raddison Blu, I’m bunning a zoot
|
| Gyal, come here and bill some zegs
|
| Listen, come with the chip gyal
|
| Give me the drop on the opper’s address
|
| Roads too smokey, no salmon
|
| I was locked up, tryna work on my album
|
| But there’s pagan boys in the jailhouse
|
| Way too much that I can’t even count 'em
|
| A few, a few opps in a wok, who found them? |
| Us
|
| My Queen Counsel told me that the evs was dead, let’s take it to trial then
|
| I done two times walking out of the Bailey
|
| Go stay low from the siren
|
| They see man run on the back roads
|
| Swinging my boar, it’s force I’m applying
|
| Look, jailhouse ting
|
| Bro bros tryna lurk and he froze, let me go and grab my ting
|
| They done too much chat, had enough of the opps, bare reboars hyping
|
| Besides them, CPS and Tridents move like rap is the cause of violence
|
| Deja vu, I bust all indictments
|
| No more jail cah my freedom’s priceless
|
| CID still onto the 9ers
|
| I’m in the jailhouse swinging my arms
|
| Got beef in the marsh, lurky with the lifers, ugh
|
| Big drip, call that «Chanaynay»
|
| Watch me go whip that O, no silent
|
| Oh, see one of the jurors sleeping in court
|
| Then I’m giving the usher a silent note
|
| CPS, they know that the verse weren’t right
|
| In the court with the Trident, don’t
|
| I’ve been lit before they paid me
|
| Buss down tints, drive by in the ride with smoke (Ugh)
|
| Breeze out the car, there’s an opp in the 9
|
| It’s us, lurking through in a dinger
|
| I put two plus two in a spinner
|
| Buss, if not then we lurk with a chinger
|
| Poke or shave him smoothly with a clipper
|
| He can hold one too cah he been on the fence and he’s way too inner, inner,
|
| inner
|
| Brozay’s losing the plot in the hood, feels like I’m living in Black Mirror
|
| Ghost, ghost, move like Big Tipper
|
| We serve food in our capital
|
| TT coming in hood and extra like Yinka
|
| There’s OT flakes in a bake
|
| Watch it marinate rocks and we chop that dinner
|
| My little brozay’s tryna move with an Uz'
|
| Cah there’s bare bloodstains when he bust that trigger
|
| Airborne blood all over the dinger
|
| Whoosh, first in the pool like Liver
|
| Pull up then gun anyone that’s similar
|
| A yout got hella ching stripes, no Tigger
|
| Now we got bare red juice like Bigga
|
| Free my cody then fly up COT then chop up the shape like Triller
|
| Tik Tok, gun man stance in the function
|
| Wind up your waist with my hand on my trigger (Ugh)
|
| Rotate and flip like my flick knife babe
|
| Honey, shake those hips (Ugh)
|
| I can’t get lidge rips cah the firearms, jakes interrupt man’s trips (Ugh)
|
| Real check, no ins, that’s back to the compound thanks to the pigs
|
| I’m the best at my age, no fibs, who can flow like this?
|
| Fuck off |