Lyrics

[Verse] I just say I'm good, mum don't know my stresses I'm more independent than some VVS's We can talk about all I've invested But sometimes more and more it lessens No comment in the station, bitch, I'm clueless I got a million pound dreams and they're lucid Ain't doing maths, no, these are different kinda rulers I'm wearing all black, just how I like my jurors No cap, I've played the streets for some time now I pray my kid don't ever try take up this lifestyle Evеry night I pray to God for repentance Bro, my stash spot an еasy ten year sentence Times I didn't wanna rap no more But it's the only way that I won't have to trap no more Level up and say "I don't live in the ends no more" Boy, I had to risk my freedom with them tens and scores The streets know I'm in the ride if we gotta slide The fifteen years I've been rapping, bro been locked inside No label, no distro The streets made sure shit was gravy like Bisto If I ain't in the booth killing 'em then me and bro's working out dividends We just broke a whole one down in the living room And rap came secondary My cooking the crack game legendary I came up where Christmas ain't never merry This is where them little hoes will trap you with a baby And niggas think I'm rich 'cause DJ Kenny played me Most these bitches and these dudes are strange In my pocket like some loose change No telling what they wouldn't do for fame And when them bloggers make a rap list, I don't even notice Your favourite rapper's gonna let you know that Torm's been the coldest I know shawty getting close 'cause she's thinking I might just blow She don't know everything I got came out the Pyrex bowl All money into this thing, stack dough alike Fans wanna see me get my flowers, it's only right My OG's got lifed off and shit weren't about money It'd scare you to death, some shit that I found funny No silver spoon, we been poor All I know is cooking raw Only laws I respect is my in-laws Only singing that I only ever know is these songs and Singapore God put no snitching in my core So much on my mind, I just put it in these songs though This one's for the trappers like a Monzo Bro on the phone calling just to let me know that it's my calling The streets think of me when the Henny's pouring And after the streets killed broski I just wanted the get-back, before that I just wanted a Rollie Long story short, I'm tryna make it through music I got a million pound dreams and they're lucid