Lyrics: R14/Jester/James Maddocks/AyeTM/Unknown T
Music: R14/Jester/James Maddocks/AyeTM/Unknown T
Mm-hm
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It's like murder ****ed up my name and money
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Last year's pack, made industry mutuals move bare funny
**** it, I might as well bill up a duppy
Point blank ting cah my shooters like Sully
I make four guys hop out the ding-dong
Bare grown men turn into Buggs Bunny
Them niggas run back in a hurry
Yo
Bumper ting bruck off and give me some honey
Can't grip broad EastEnder chicks
They're twins like Ronny and Roxie
Run from the bill for the light and the Bobbie
Slugs in the cat house, slime 'em out properly
Don't care how you feel if you're on me
If there's no more waps then bring out the dottys
We make man lay with the poppies
Yuck
That paigon block can't defend our fouls
Even the SO's know 'bout the badness in the jailhouse
We're all on obbo, but still slap a shell unannounced
Bleaow
Leave man pronounced
My shooter runs with a smile like Leão
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Let my dreadhead grip 'cause he moves like Camavinga from Real
The opps try bang on me, look at me now
I know how to fling that kite back round
You can call us Filthy Fellas
Cah true say the opps gotta grieve right now
My block's still winnin' awards like Federer
There ain't no back and forthin' like Nadal
The opp boys bored cah they move stupid on the net
Like Mizzy it's all for the clout
It's all for the clout
Enough of the beef, let's talk about bouj bitch
Stomp the beat if you're tryna be hood rich
If you're 30, hop off the hood shit
Jump of the pitch if you're name ain't Modrić
Anytime gang have to step out parties, our gun man guards
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The man keep missin' their open chance
We're certified gunners like Ødegaard
The other mazeen made a man of Islam scream "Oh Lord"
It's bad luck if you see us poppin' them cars
The G9's like my chain, it's always on blast
Remind man who's in the past
My block's like an iPhone fully on charge
Leveled up since the label lift my advance
Booked top floor in the Shangri-La
Now she wanna bust it open in the bath
The floor's marble, come and arch
If you hold the machine, we can go Libertine or Tape and braff
The mandem pattern the guards
Man put the scorpion in the dance
I know this thick brown ting wanna pop Perignon
Should I give her a chance?
Grrt
We made it rain
Who got the last laugh?
Mm-hm