Topshottas Freestyle
Lyrics
(Yeah, it's Chucks)
Don't mix with them boys, that's what your mother said (don't do it)
Now you're knee deep in it and your brother's dead (pissed)
And any time you see him you see the color red
Got you out here just schemin' on their mum's address
I don't rate 'em but I've got it on me nonetheless
Ganja breath, talkin' to my babes but I need to get away
I'm waitin' for my kids 'cause I've got gangster DNA
You couldn't see me on my worst day (ever)
You weren't 'bout it in the first place
That's how you end up with a burst face (rah)
Or you snitch, that's the worst case
Streets told me I'm the best with the wordplay
But that couldn't mean less in my workplace (I don't care)
They're injectin' their toes and their necks in my workplace
Young G's I'm bankin' the bath in my workplace
And you'd think that was bad but I've had worst days
I take the coke out the water like a mermaid
I've got the grub and told 'em, "See you next Thursday"
I've got this bitch and her she drink me like she thirsty
I think I'm money anytime I'm in Burberry
I used to have ten cats by the Curly Wurly
Now it's top shottas back in full effect
I grew up on the block, money, power and respect
I'm a product of the YOI's, illegal neglect
Now these bottles get necked and these models give me neck
I'm a G by myself, I can't get G-checked
I sign my own checks, CEO and exec' (mad)
I wake up every mornin', money haffi mek
I said wake up like I've slept, let that go over your head
I've been killin' white girl like Little Mo and Trev
My life's a movie, I ain't Clooney or Depp
But if I have to take them steps it's a tragedy
Mazzaleen, MAC on me like I'm from Aberdeen family
You ain't ever bagged any sweets in the bag
Knockin' doors like it's Halloween
When I never had a dream, still I always had a fiend
Had to jack a pack, I never had a beam
Places that a man a been, seen 'em get bun like jalapeeñ
Hot Tamale, round here they call me Abti but I'm not Somali
Let me take you on a block safari
How they prayin' for the light but it's not Diwali?
Where they do you like Luca Brasi
No chit chat and no malarkey, come proper like Mr. Darcy
Jailhouse, I always had a Smartie
Had your baby mother movin' tarty
This Amiri, it's not Armani (ah)
This Amiri, it's not Armani (do you get it?)
Shit (thanks for waitin')
Writer(s): Jamal Bousbaa
Copyright(s): Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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