Longthorne Shotgun

Lyrics

[Intro] I guess you Never really know what's 'round the corner, mate I just uh, remember when [?] (NineOne) You know, we always used to laugh Laugh and sing, mate It's what you gotta do– [Verse 1: Pete] White-hot stepper, dripping in black leather Heat stay tucked, never mind cold weather Bang whenever, your salt get peppered Sight get turned black and white like chequers Blacks and whites in the batch And it's two-tone suits on the boys, black belts like judo Get slapped down flat, no Uno Feds out guessing who done it, just like Cluedo [Verse 2: Bas] Shotgun pressed on the chest for the kickback Chat shit, get boxed up like a Tic Tac (Tic Tac, Tic Tac) I fill a fella up with a Big Mac Lick shots, belly get split like six-pack (Six-pack, six-pack) I'm in the fast lane Chicks in the back on the bubble with the Chardonnay (Chardonnay) I made it through the dark days Phantom, looking at the roof, you can stargaze [Verse 3: Pete] Bright lights pinging off the watch 'cause it's diamond Tick-tock, clock him with impeccable timing Hop in the whip at the first sight of sirens Back to the pub, vod' sod' with the lime in Fill another cup, yeah, let me sink that Home run, knock him out the park when I swing bats Split him in the middle like a Kit Kat Spliff rolled, drink poured, Lord, can I kick back? [Verse 4: Bas] Kick back doesn't work well with the work ethic I've been through the dirt and I learnt lessons Went from a dinger with the dents in Now I got vents in the bonnet and it's pearlescent Skirt in the dark like a Wiccan Ripe for the picking, fried like a chicken He could have been alive but he's kicking the bucket Down to the bone, finger-licking [Verse 5: Pete] Break dinner plates on the face of a chump Then I'm breaking his bread and I'm taking a chunk I ain't never leave a trace 'cause I did him up freehand Gloves on, they ain't getting prints off of these hands Meat and veg on a platter The wads got thicker then the belly got fatter When the feds come knocking at the door for the same old I'ma just knock him out flat, no chatter [Verse 6: Bas] Double chuffing the blunt, chugging the Bombay John Wayne gait when I'm stepping on the runway Six shot cut down Winnie for the gun play Pray for my sins in the church on a Sunday Spill a man's beans, I'm a drunk chef Close cut, shaving his dome like a monk's head Blood shed, taste for the flesh like I'm undead Sleep best when I'm locked up in a bunk bed [Verse 7: Pete] Hop, skip and a jump, pass the pump Ch-ch-ch-ch bow, let his body slump in the pub garden Sit and finish my Guinness, top of the morning The first flight home, then I'm gone and I'm laughing Smiling and creasing, he's folded and leaking I've tried to control him, I ought to delete him Alive in the morning and dead by the evening I'm taking him home 'cause the pigs need feeding [Verse 8: Bas] Glide when I walk, make money when I talk No time for the pork, outlined in the chalk White lines on a board, if you need it, you call me Three for an hundred, same old story Four-fifty, chopped by the pound Slapped in the wraps and that's fifteen grand Fifteen large for the Longthorne shotgun I shot from That's an expensive round [Outro] (Nine One)