Just had to kick a chick out of the studio, s**t’s nuts, famHahahahaI like kyle’s words, fam, the truth is madder than fiction, famIt’s nuts out hereOi, ayy, write that s**t downLookI see a ting that I touched, tell me about talkin’ stage, gotta tell her “don’t force it”Beef man, pepper and salt it, me and rj gotta pull up, no talkin’Trap, you ain’t got a rack to your name, my bro brick lane, we don’t know ’bout shoreditchRental, I never insured it, m25, gotta whip that calmlyMan try beef with my dargy, warzone ting how I come third partyMy little ni**a can’t lose that cash, I drop ygs, do it like kehlaniI don’t rock gucci or armani, st from st, I can’tSquash that beef like fruit and barley, still got a one black star like kwameThree car convoy in sutton, my mum got matching whips with yungenShould’ve made shanei hold on suttin’ but it never would’ve worked ’cause the girl too stubbornYoung g’s talking my name in the endsGotta’ tell a man “please don’t risk it”On a right day, man ah just frisk himOn a wrong day, I’m gettin’ man airliftedI’m in hollywood hills with a white rolls royceIn the one brownin’ from comptonThe lambo parked just in frontMan pull up to the bumper and do it like konshensShe wanna go lv, no problemWent for the cheapest bag, that’s nonsenseI took a hundred bags from barclays bankNo cap, you can go and ask ellie
That one mine, bouncing bettyThe bag 4k, like a hd tellyBest believe that I’m back like nellyChest petite with a back like jellyI’m seein’ man send indirectsIf you wanna war man then you better be vocalMy right hand got a semi, that’s localAnd this brownin’ I can’t post on socialsMy girl gotta’ be far from socialI don’t wanna’ see her at carniFour-double-eight in the partyLbc how I nicked the ferrariGirls say we’re the littiest batch in south london and, bro, it’s a factAirport, we’re going for bantsI hopped out the plane, I ain’t going verdanskWhat you know about telling a 10/10 to keep her clothes on and moving good?I ain’t on beating or misogynyIt’s mahogany, I got bougie woodLook, airbnb with the guys, it’s a white mans face that I use to bookChill with the stupid looks or it’s gonna be a kettle that I use to cookI see a ting that I touched, tell me about talkin’ stageGotta tell her “don’t force it”Beef man, pepper and salt it, me and rj gotta pull up, no talkin’Trap, you ain’t got a rack to your nameMy bro brick lane, we don’t know ’bout shoreditchRental, I never insured it, m25, gotta whip that calmlyMan try beef with my dargy, warzone ting how I come third partyMy little ni**a can’t lose that cash, I drop ygs, do it like kehlaniI don’t rock gucci or armani, st from st, I can’tSquash that beef like fruit and barley, still got a one black star like