Lyrics

[Verse] Tell you bout this rap game cause I'm the hardest in it Business with that white girl or it's regarding spinach Don't give me your CD, I'll probably bin it Ends ain't greazy, who's been bodied in it? I ain't relying on a lottery ticket Poverty, robberies, I'm somebody that live it There was times when I never had a score on my arse Way before I flung a nine on a four and a half Real talk, listen this is all from the heart They wan' see my empire falling apart But I was shotting grub when you was still in school I was dealing food to a Spice Girl's husband Let mе slow down, I'm a bit bait Fuck a mixtape, my mum thinks I'm a disgrace I feel to empty out a sеmi in his face I don't wanna leave the earth in this state I know silent killers that only ride with spinners Just something old out my cupboard, looking kinda vintage Flyer image, Purple Label's from Ralph My rap bars got me fucking out the waviest gal And none of this paper's halal They said I ain't Muslim but my dad changed his name to Bilal I give a fuck what you think, I'm in God's hands Till I found Allah I felt like a lost man Used to link cats by the park bench I used to sell weed, now coke's my department Forget what I used to do cah that's in the past tense I'm dealing with right now and I'm on point like a marksman Talking like you're running your estate I'm tryna run the city, never running out of yay Fuck what you heard, I'm only running from a jake As a young yout grinding, put a one-er down a day Imagine what I stacked in a whole year, it's splendid I burned certain bridges and they'll never get mended Cocaine blended, the clip on the star's extended Watch who you're sitting in your ends with Fuck a little ten jib, money for a brick of raw Before SB introduced F64 I spent my teens with Hazey, mashing in Tooting and Mitcham I've got shooters in prison, I've got food in the kitchen I'm abusing the system, I've got views so they listen I've got girls on my nuts, bare beautiful women Still see me on the front line by Somali town I don't need jewels to shine when I'm Cavalli'd down Chilling in Notts in my auntie's house Cocaine in large amounts, I throw away half an ounce Get me stung, I'ma get him bun Never said I had to be the man to go and get it done Just to let you know I'm on this ting, I might pepper one Fuck a vest on my chest, I'll cop a better one Young yout's stressed cah he heard that I sexed his mum I need more than one pie cah I need extra funds Monkey on my stunners fam Yas at the back, that's a hundred grand Gun in hand, loading up a toaster And I feel to bun a man, turn a man over Foot down, high revs, run a man over Forget sitting reminiscing how I could've done it different Cause I can't, got the hood listening now's my chance Years I've had these D's on my arse Tryna do it like an O.G., I'll mash a pie fast This is more than music, fine art Even pagans know that I'm hard Talking like your dough stretch long Living like a doctor, no profession Man are turning thirty doing Rolex songs When I turned twenty, had my Rolex on And I ain't getting at Wiley Kat Sitting in a grimy flat, putting up a nine in racks Really getting hard dough, certain things only Allah knows Can't be explained by no science Looking down at a liar like a giant The food's the same colour as the client