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Mm-hm Listen It's like murder fucked up my name and money, listen Last year's pack, made industry mutuals move bare funny Fuck it, I might as well bill up a duppy Point blank ting, got my shooters like Sully I made four guys hop out the ding-dong Bare grown men turn into Bugs Bunny Them niggas run back in a hurry, yo Bumper ting bruck off and give me some honey Can't grip broad EastEnder chicks, the twins like Ronny and Roxie Run from the bill for the light and the Bobbie Slugs in the cat house, slam-em out properly Don't care how you feel if you're on me If there's no more waps, then bring out the dottys We make man lay with the poppies Yuck that paigon block can't defend our fouls Even the SOs know 'bout the badness in the jailhouse We're all on obbo, but still slap a shell unannounced Blaow, lean man pronounced, my shooter runs with a smile like Leão, listen Let my dread head grip, moves like Camavinga from Real The opps try and bang on me, look at me now I know how to fling that kite back round You can call us Filthy Fellas, cah true say the opps gotta agree by now Our block still winnin' awards like Federer Letras de cancionesThere ain't no back and forthin like Nadal The opp boys bored, 'cause they move stupid on the net Like Mizzy, it's all for the clout, it's all for the clout Enough of the beef, let's talk about buj bitch Stamp the beat if you're tryna be hood rich If you're thirty, hop off the hood shit Jump off the pitch if your name ain't Modrić Any time gang have to step out parties, our gun man guards The man keep missin' their open chance We're certified gunners like Ødegaard The other mazeen made a man of Islam scream "Oh Lord" It's bad luck if you see us poppin' them cars The G9's like my chain, it's always on blast Remind man who's in the past My blocks like a iPhone fully on charge Leveled up since the label lit my advance Booked top floor in the Shangri-La Now she wanna bust it open in the bath The floor's marble, come and arch If you hold the machine, we can go Libertine or tape and bra The mandem pattern the guards, man put the scorpion in the dance I know this thick brown ting wanna pop Perignon, should I give her a chance? Grrt, we made it rain, who got the last laugh? Mm-hm From Letras Mania