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M1OnTheBeat What's that, Cali? In the studio with bro, smoking cro and it's Cali If the cats weren't careful of the obbo, use a bally White tee you're moving, John Wayne with the swammy Two-on-two at the Tesco, three-on-three at the alley .44s in a bag, half a B with the strali Five-Five dusty inches when he flinches from the sami Six 6s, I was 7+, seven with the ammi All facts, bro, had to bank it up like it was Hali She came to my crib for a session, came West for the wood She ain't shy, takes Charlie for the low, the coke's good I just hope that it's the same when I wash it and it's shook 'Cuh if not, I ain't putting mediocre in my hood When I'm playing with the yola, baking soda, let it cook Real pain, no shame, I heard you're nyaming out the puss I put white in my city, I'm a shepherd in a bush Push a suttin' in your tee, bleached the flicky, stay shush I don't know about colly no more Straight cash, had to catch up like Heinz Left a banger in the mash In the pen like ink In the bin like trash If the buj come in good, mix the buj with the bash Roll it up, lemme light it, no diet Letras de cancionesFeelin' frass, I won't rise it End up fryin', no lyin' I'ma crash, I'ma crash Dead it like a zoot, hit a roach, leavin' ash Ring, ring, that's Allen that's bellin' me "Yo, Allen, what you tellin' me?" More time that nigga scorin' like a penalty Six-on-four, no shots, that's seventy Six-on-four, no shots, that's seventy Six-on-four, no shots, that's seventy Six-on-four, no shots, that's seventy Six-on-four, no shots, that's seventy Just got a shot for a two and a daughter Come a long way from a quarter Just came money, cash, Ps on a corner Just put thirty grams of Madge on a phone now Could'a put forty, didn't wanna stretch it Light though, man's still happy with the Z bit Could'a just pegged it Dropped it on my nigga for a rack I ain't runnin' him down, just hit me when you got the scratch Far from rich, twenty quid in the crib 18, three chains, two sticks, one score, five jibs, two clips, .44, three stacks and it kicks OT drop packs, two trips Went jail, took an L, went six bags down By the year came out, on the search for a town Lemme just turn on my Grove ting The one we made it do a stack a day, no ghostin' Don't rate the olders, they ain't got waps Consign the few who never seen my shit back, tramps Lesson learned, not a loss Went four bags down the other day but I firmed it like a boss I'm ain't boxing like McGregor, I'm afraid to leave them pourin' If the tourists hits him, even [?] won't cure him Told the driver don't stop, there's too much buju in the foreign In the Benz last [?], I'm smokin' chronics, I be tourin' M1OnTheBeat From Letras Mania