Silian Braille

Lyrics

[Intro: CASISDEAD] Yeah Cas Ah [Verse 1: CASISDEAD] I get piff from The Purist My sniff is the purest One thing that's for sure is You'll get bumped like a tourist (Ha) London, grey skies Yeah, I touch road from morning Dark clouds are forming (Yeah) And the dope fiends are swarming Police come without warning (Slags) Residents are informing 'cause their neighbours keep scoring And the blocks all smell appalling, mad roaches crawling I ain't balling, I'm eight ballin' (Yeah) I'm yet to go all in (Ah) But see that might change if These prices keep falling (Yeah) And these clients keep calling (Yeah) Top gear, no stalling (Nah) These dumb niggas I'm schooling (Schooling), ruling (Ruling) No snapbacks, just black bags and backpacks Envelopes with white powder but nah, it's not Anthrax Runnin' out, hit Badger up and see if he has that Not long, link up, exchange stock, NASDAQ (Ha) My syntax so abstract but most man won't catch that My contact got A.Cs (Yeah), they're dropping in Halifax If the bitch try backtrack, swear down, she'll get slapped Right outside that bank, fam, give a fuck, clap that [Chorus: CASISDEAD] Got wraps in my Vans, cracks in my hands I ain't got no future, no long-term plans Pyrex and Teflon, Dutch pots and pans It's all grams and grands, snot coming out my glands Got wraps in my Vans, cracks in my hands I ain't got no future, no long-term plans Hour glass near empty, runnin' out of sand I'm talking to the devil 'cause he understands (I understand) [Verse 2: CASISDEAD] Half ounce in my satchel (Yes) All stories factual (Yeah) All stories actual Accounts it so casual Bet yet so tactful How I glamourise these tales of powder and capsules Drugs, I've got a sackful (Yeah) Mouthful Cracks like I'm chewin' on fruit pastels (Uh) So brash, not bashful (Nah) Got cash 'cause I'm holdin' (Yeah) More weight than both axels Just seems so rational (Yeah) More horse than the Grand National From Cheshunt to Chester (Yeah) Gettin' that Red Leicester Since way back when, you though Kane was a wrestler I was on that trap shit (Yeah), I don't let my food fester (Nah) On the ball like Iniesta (Ah) Lunch at the Dorchester (Ah) Feds move so messed up (Cunts) Want us in court all dressed up (Cunts) Five years for coke but two for a child molester, fuck it though I don't rest, no siesta (Nah) Got a meeting up west to impress an investor [Chorus: CASISDEAD] Got wraps in my Vans, cracks in my hands I ain't got no future, no long-term plans Pyrex and teflon, Dutch pots and pans It's all grams and grands, snot coming out my glands Got wraps in my Vans, cracks in my hands I ain't got no future, no long-term plans Hour glass near empty, runnin' out of sand I'm talking to the devil 'cause he understands (I understand)