Trench P (London City)

Lyrics

[Intro] (Manson) [Chorus] London City, they gang-bang in Tech fleeces I put a pussy on the spot like set pieces I'm known for buildin' up blocks, I go to next regions Sometimes, my head gets hot and I forget reason My hands was cold on the strip, now my neck's freezin' I'm goin' cold on the drip, this is next season Jailhouse readin', that was chess pieces Mind your mouth, boy, I hit you in your chest piece [Verse 1] Probably why I'm famous and they still won't give me entry The mandem said I really made the comeback of the century Labels wanna reinvent me, but I'm Trench P Hopped out the gate to a Bentley, you get me? I remember I was broke, had to tick a quarter No car for the block, had to hit the corner Sometimes, I still spin by cah I miss the trauma And over there, I'm makin' hits like Tiggs Da Author I'm live 24/7, what a sick performer What a sick performance Free the jailhouse, I really miss my audience These is big proportions I made a hundred in amount and got shipped to Moorlands [Verse 2] London City, they gang-bang in Range Rovers At your crib like sixty-minute makeovers I left that pussy on the yard with his face open Now I'm home tearin' tops like Hulk Hogan I think I'm Steve Austin, tryna stone-cold 'em Four man, four hammers in this old Shogun This a life you don't wanna stick no cold toes in I'm always live so the boys can't bring no GoPros in I don't like that, some tryna move the goalpost ting That's the type of shit that had me out in old clothing You ain't like that, I bet they tell you, "No smoking" I keep cats smokin', I keep hoes hopin' You ain't standin' on my toes, you ain't encroachin' If I put this on your block, I bet it's explosive I shoulda never threw that Z at him, that Z's thrown him If that was my darg, I would've had to disown him Why don't you tell them 'bout that jacket that I ripped holes in? Or how I gave him all that packet? Now his wrist frozen But I'm a music mogul now, I feel like Rick Rubin I'm overseas countin' money with this big Cuban [Verse 3] 'Round my neck, it's dangling Time it right, I'll angle him In the flesh, I'll strangle him And anyone who stands with him I think I might need counsellin' I sawed the dots and sanded it And done the overhand with it They know that–, got blammed with it [Chorus] London City, they gang-bang in Tech fleeces I put a pussy on the spot like set pieces I'm known for buildin' up blocks, I go to next regions Sometimes, my head gets hot and I forget reason My hands was cold on the strip, now my neck's freezin' I'm goin' cold on the drip, this is next season Jailhouse readin', that was chess pieces Mind your mouth, boy, I hit you in your chest piece