Loski

Drill
Let me tell you how my animals move Step in the cut, designer shoes, done it in Canada Goose And these neeks ain't touch me ever, I've bored up their olders too Anything opp man drill it, or man fish it, Harlem Loose Crime scenes we done many, plus SA way too cheffy Anytimes the opps make snaps, me, M and the Twins try lurk round Kelly Splash man down that's blood 'pon many, we came through and them boy weren't ready Step for the kill don't bring that celly, say misch mash but their stack's on empty Got Naghz like Future got Metro, shoot that nigga if bro don't trust Slow down baby or screw me, trying on my hoodie, put it down love Smoking on dog or cookie, I see man [?] when shotgun buss You get got then you run out of luck Bruk down 20 of each I distribute grubs at the same way, President Trump distributing his speech I swear me and T would've been rich, if we ever had a run that's clean But for years we was doing up jail, between two Gs that's hundreds of weeks That's all for jugging and violence, obbo in the hood that's Trident Things in the kitchen that's science, trap phones filled up with clients And the opps can't tell me 'bout riding, I had the whole block smelling like tyres And I know what it feels like to be dead broke, I scrapped the fuck out the pyrex I heard a whole load of sirens How they talk about pressure? When it's me that applied it I put skengs in a bruk down Vestra Dem man are Brock like Lesnar I still get it in a dance, I couldn't give a fuck about wands and sensors SongtexteCircle the opp block too many times now the gang just restless My phone done a One last night, I just spent it Cos these weapons still part of expenses, I'm still stuck in the trenches Been locked in a room with weights and benches, My trap phone still benchpress Spend it on teeth and we ain't even gotta go dentist Drilling, trapping, Olympic chinging Name an opp block I ain't been in Anything green get bun, hit anyone except kids and women Rambos twinning, on a late night trynna catch man slippin' Go home with my black blade drippin', dem man run shit I pray that I catch one trippin' Chef man down I'm Michelin starred, tools in the ride like I'm fixing a car Who's got a problem? No block in Tottenham does more drilling than ours I can get man down with the team, or I can ride alone Leave my house and my keys, rambo tucked and a Lyca phone Jakes done a raid at my mum's house, I can tell that she ain't impressed I swear down I really hate these feds Must think I'm dumb, to have this gun and stay at the same address They couldn't rate me less DC [?] tried read my rights, told him not to waste his breath Re'd up on a g-pack, all of these cells that I hit to the b-cats Could have me back in a cell in a b-cat, and I ain't trynna see that So I gotta step with caution, sliders or expensive Jordans RV I'm stuck in the trap, like my girl didn't get an abortion Aus Songtexte Mania