[Milly95]
This big nine will send a hearse where the church is
But I'd rather give you verses on verses
So here's a word from the wordsmith
Torn between my gifts and my curses
Every stripe weren't a wish but I earned it
So here's a script from the hurt
Fuck that, here's a script from the worst
Skrr the whip when I'm burst
One, two, three, door flying off the hinge on the third
Nine-five, spit it and burn
The booth to ash and put that bitch in an urn
Swear that's a Rollie I seen, hand it over and there won't be a scene
The hammer's cheap, I bet it won't be as clean
Used to have holes in our jeans
Fast-forward couple years, there's still holes in our jeans
The only difference is we go for them jeans
Not the type of friend that you should have on speakerphone
I still bang tunes out the hoopty with the speaker blown
I beg your pardon, please repeat the tone
I'm not the one but I am the one that you should leave alone
[Ard Adz]
Before I touched a microphone, used to sell Michael bones
Then I drove the Micra home, I built a little Lyca phone
Even though it stunk, used to treat the bando like a home
Them little diamonds on your neck akh, they're micro set
I couldn't even see them likkle stones with a microscope
Grown men are bitching and they're acting like fucking fools
Grown men are acting like bitches that I fucked in school
And anytime Milly call akh, it ain't questions asked
Weapon rise, shooting out the ride then it's questions last
You don't want that shock to your life then leave Milly trust
Me and Torres in the room with jewels, that's a milli plus
You don't buss your gun but my killy does
You don't spill no blood but this flicky does
Spent half my life on that five-nine Bricky bus
They hate it if Bricky buss
Before I froze baguettes in that rose Patek
I was on the road to debt and anytime close to death
I love that nina but I still prefer that dotty fam
Twenty years on these roads, I've never seen no shotty jam
And R.I.P. Scotty fam, it's years I ain't chat to Pesci
But I still love 'em, couple times I had to back the speshy
It was Russian but I bought it off a Bangladeshi
It was Russian but I bought it off the Bangladeshis
[Bellzey]
They say they all killers, they must be all kidding
And if that's my size eights, you can't walk in 'em
I got a big hammer, size of a small midget
So if them pussies wanna war, I go to war with it
Three straps in the house, normal day, family home
Feds come, toys start dropping like Andy's home
I was in the park in the dark like I didn't have a home
Testing out the nine, I told my nigga "You can have a go"
Maybe I'm paranoid, I'm plotting with my favourite gun
If I'm a monster then they made me one
Product of the street, I'm in deep, I had to play the slums
Where one wrong move and the game is done
He got his brain spun
I had the three-eight out, he didn't run, he's a brave one
Moving the light and the beige one
Tryna stay away from the crime scene
I love the P though like Bay Young
Back where I started, rappers are hardly
Matching me honestly, I'll get ya slapped in a heartbeat
Rapping's just half me, killing 'em softly
I'm with the maddest of chargies, crashing the parties
Straps stay at arms reach, mi nah the one you wan' beef
Two shots in the yute's top, now he can't breathe
Shooters on the rooftop that you can't see
Soon gone, I'ma speed off in a Rari
Two-tone on the new watch, that's what it gon' be
Plantain and a farming and a corned beef
Lock that, strap six feet with the bodies
And don't play dumb, this street shit ain't fun
When shots start knocking man's head like Wray rum
Got the shotty from Winton
Them bruddas don't talk no more, they just kill man
Paroles2Chansons dispose d’un accord de licence de paroles de chansons avec la Société des Editeurs et Auteurs de Musique (SEAM)
