(Manson)
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
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
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
'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
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
Paroles2Chansons dispose d’un accord de licence de paroles de chansons avec la Société des Editeurs et Auteurs de Musique (SEAM)
