Mad About Bars - S6-E15

Lyrics

[Intro] (KP Beatz) [Verse 1] Put money on your hat, you niggas cappers Your rappers favourite rapper, of course we've made trappers You ain't never did no dirt, you and your boys facades Got no degree but got a masters with a fork n' carbs So much work up in the house, I'm feelin' awkward Crop dryin', leaves on the floor, it's like autumn Fixed more bottoms than BBL's Still fuck my Opps, hate niggas more than EDL LV stitchin', rockin' Richard, I'm money mitchin' Views crazy, see Manchester from the pent I live in Never finished school, the teachers called us fools 300k in jewels, this icе keeps me cool Need three M's like Eminem Diamonds on mе, water baby, settin' trend Sent ten NSG, there's still seven men [?] Glock on the side, n' I ain't Eminem Made my name shootin' people, I was lively Ex try move n' I ain't met nobody like me Love the D, [?] fit em like a tight tee What you smokin' on ain't loud bro, it's [?] Loads of Pyrex stories when the soft sinks Makin' money off of boxes like Don King Talk so much shit, I need a soft mint Still pretend I'm not a driller to my posh ting Don't ever call her back, I'm in her bad books Neck, chest and up, that's your donny in a Backwood Car shoppin', might go and get a Lamborghini Keep talkin' wass, might fly your babe to Santorini Scared to bring me home to mum cause' I'm a bad boy I flew cunch with a pack, I never had choice Remember I was down to my last coins Now it's four litre, drinkin' like Gascoigne For my half M anniversary I bought a anniversary ST from slash town, I'm hella certi My bro tired of trident, now it's crypto binance Plug love me like a son, it's thirty squares on finance Are they mad at you or hatin'? Maddest yute Had to leave some behind, that's what I had to do Buj up in a ten ton stank out the room Had me sneezin' like I had the Flu Prolly' put me in Guantanamo Bay if they see my artillery So much drip on, it's slippery Even my pagans are feelin' me Got three man down, same wap, it's a trilogy Addicted to rubber bands, it's sad, I need therapy In a SVR, not your dads Cherokee I used to have a broken window in my Renault Now the cocaine from the same place as Canelo Streets keep callin' me back, I couldn't let go My skins packed g, I've been washin' off in petrol No white flag and still callin' me a Johnston Still had work on the strip when I was jobless Imagine me at seventeen, problems Chef, I cook it anywhere, campfire, hobblers Told her bend it over, needs to arch it Still circle two times when I park it Head and wap out the window like I'm car sick Never froze on a glide like bunny rabbit and [?]