Lightwork Part 1

Lyrics

[Intro] Free all the guys dem Quick ting, Pressplay, Lightwork For my shooters and my chingers Zoners, Hitters You know how it gets Look, look, look Feezie Production Look [Verse 1] Opps dem know that I'm active Bro had beef so I went there and backed it Bro-bro gave me the dots, so I went next day Next day and I crashed it Yo, reverse that drive-by ting Bro said shoot so I leaned and I slapped it Bro slashed him, that's outstanding Pecknarm still at the top of the rankings Yo, do road, do street, do map I'm in OT tryna fly this pack Twenty-eight grams in each, man chopped that down like you do the maths 600 rocks in O, I can't come back 'til it's nuttin' but cash Two hands when I slap this mash Man'a use one hand when I step and splash Two-two step when I ping it with vision Lock my arms, aim up and pivot Do it with flair, man'a do it with rhythm Me, Snoop, LR, did it Free shh on a case right now Free him up, real talk man he finished And long time I ain't seen Branning It was Bagel King where he whipped it And I still ring trap on a late night Shoutout Ibz 'cause he whips my flake right I'm in Baker Street doing up date night With a sweet one doing up FaceTime And I swear man don't even drink But this daiquiri ting, it hit on my face right Man done, ran through town like a train line And man talk, keep talk 'til I raise man I'm in the bando drying this liz' And now I'm chopping down all of this dizz How many times have we stepped 'round there? Oh lord, tryna leave man rinsed I swear all of my opps are tired and all of them need to retire See dem man screaming out Pecknarm'K like, LOL, none of us dying Now why the opps dem stress? Cah one got chinged in his head The other got chinged in his chest, stress The other got shot in his chest What, none of us dropped their friend? Hold up, let me just shout Y.Latz (Hah) How's he gonna talk that wass when his sister's a slag and his olders dead? Ayy, offers is on me want flirt Girl got a back, but the face just hurt Mash that work, blood spill on the curb Try kweng man's face, but the mash didn't work MCQ from my head to my toes Cut tru' the rave, better hide all your hoes Tuck in your chain or I'm grabbing it, bro Bro, pass me the skeng let me slap at his throat (Bro, bro) Yo, fling on my mask and hoodie Yeah, you know that I'm gassed up fully Five foot eight on the strip, I'm a bully I'm with soaks, got the stick in my hoodie Lean out the ride, tryna show what's goodie Still out 'ere with a J, no Goody Naija ting, with a back like Fumi Do it like P, put my shank in fully Yo, I'm looking at my opp boy's vids (I'm looking at my opp boy's vids) Like he's dead and he's dead, go ride for your friend Yo, my man dodged that bullet But you know little bro got M'd And, big bro held him a chest shot quick But he shoulda stepped out with a vest Yo, long legs done got cheffed in his arm Cah' the boy try to cover his neck YPB tryna leave man drenched Dip splash, I do it like Kenz And right now man's billing up zoots (Anything) Anything get-get boot Anything B get boot Fuck that man smoke on dem man too Hah