Mugshot Freestyle

Lyrics

[Intro] Omelette du fromage [Verse 1: Pete] Yeah Little fella, big mouth, call me Scrappy Doo Turtle, put a shell up in the back of you Nailed down, show a fella what the hammer do Batter you, spud got fried like a saag aloo Peter! Shut the fuck up Load corn in the chicken, let it buck-buck Belly thicker from the beer and the Richmonds Strap sitting in the fold, that's a tum tuck [Verse 2: Bas] Vintage, antique The broomstick will make your man's weep I'm with the Sikhs, six man deep Make the nine-mill clap like your nan's cheeks Champagne with the top boys Chinese, dim sum with thе bok choy Split him in the middle with the chopstick Makе a bitch out a man—tom boy [Verse 3: Pete] I'm outside with a fag and a can and me top off Hammered, still knock your block off Feds coming to the manor when it pop off The block's on lock off, I still make the drop off And they can try and take a couple of bands I won't make a mosh pit but I'll rocking 'em out They know I'm built like a bottle of stout And if they try and pop caps, I'll be knocking them out [Verse 4: Bas] Puff up your chest, get smoked like cigar Pull strings like a bloke on a guitar One call, get wrapped, dish dasha Left in a dune in the sands in Qatar Bando, bricks in between walls Break bricks like bits on a DeWalt Bounce bits to the boys in the Midlands Box out, passing the rock like it's b-ball [Verse 5: Pete] Big chain and it swings on the crisp white Bring pain when I flex in a fist fight Got the missus on the blower, tell her sit tight I'll be running the roads, I'm back after midnight Savile Row from me head to my tiptoes Puff a dart then I fling it out the window Snub nose in the pocket of me three-piece Rest in peace, I'ma die for my zip code [Verse 6: Bas] Commas and a dot in the stash Got the Corrie on the telly while I'm counting the cash The man talking pork pies, then I'm loading the beans If he's skimming on the cream, then I'm banging the mash And you can find me 'round the back of the bar Keep a big bing tucked in the back of the car Got a bird belling on me while I cut the cigar And I just hit 'decline'—baby, look, I'm a star