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Yeah, Gang I wasn't born on Luxford, but I did dirt on Luxford Chased our opps in public, but I ain't gon' talk on the subject At parks we charging, march like spartan's You can call us three hundred Coppers are out and about, so stay in your house If you can't out run 'em I grew up seeing them red bandanas (true) I grew up seeing them green bandanas It's always been war in the Sydney's West But the whole city knows which real ones ran 'em If I'm talking real, then it starts with from Woodstock Ave Down to Chestnut Crescent And when Blood got spilled We got out there, on Luxford Road Showing opps who's present Back in 2015, we were tearing that road up KTM 450s when you hear that motor Outside, let it knock Burnin' rubber on the block No doughnut Midnight P and R's Them broad day cheffin's All getting done, profoundly Letras de cancionesStreet lights getting kicked out, blades getting flicked out That's how you know you're a mounty Age 15 first time putting hands on a ski See a opp and I told him I grip They was in class try'na get their grades up While I was on the street try'na hit me a lick From [?] To Deccan Way feeding them fiends Like an all you can eat buffet I was on the block all night, all day Going hard in the paint like I'm LBJ Cause I really did work on Luxford Road Took trips with kegs on Luxford Road Not once have I ever not backed my bro's Got a FBO on Luxford Road But I'll still load the clip and make it go If you ain't on the strip, then pussy don't hang Make the wrong move and you can get bad Hang with the wrong crowd and get your toe tagged I wasn't born on Luxford, but I did dirt on Luxford Chased our opps in public, but I ain't gon' talk on the subject At parks we charging, march like spartan's You can call us three hundred Coppers are out and about, so stay in your house If you can't out run 'em I'm from 2, 7, we use weapons that pick and choose .38s And them .22s them buckshots knock your Heard the opps been try'na box Well, hold these 7.62s Are you down, cause we're on the block These the only rounds that we're try'na do Win or lose we stick and move when we do the race Make sure don't forget your K To the opps already in the grave Their friends sad and mad he at the grave Enough but ain't got no Don't impress me much like Shania Twain Got raised up on Luxford Road so we poppin' off like we Tory Lanez They know where I'm at, Luxford This ain't the cold war but we keep marchin' Try come to the street We got sickles and hammers like Soviet Russians We some soldiers, sorted them out like equations We solvin' that problem Somebody call doctors, medical attention if they try marchin' on Luxford Nah, that's our trenches war zone Bullet holes and stitches in your torso If one of us get hit, then we all go, sawed-off, 12 gauges, semi-autos Lad, don't step out of line when the sergeants chargin' through I'm from mounty (SIR, YES SIR) give me a fuckin' salute I wasn't born on Luxford, but I did dirt on Luxford Chased our opps in public, but I ain't gon' talk on the subject At parks we charging, march like spartan's You can call us three hundred Coppers are out and about, so stay in your house If you can't out run 'em From Letras Mania