Writing lyrics on my lap top They see us in a black car bro wait I swear Iknow the cop Tryna hit the jackpot My bros calling from the Bando Trapping out of dans plot For my mum I’ll take my hats off The only woman in my life That I could trust with a cash pot Everyday I gotta thank god Everyday I make sinse Calli from dam got me looking like I’m Ausin I ain’t in a Bando I don’t need a zanco I do my own ting Never follow where the gang go yutes with a rambo Got it from the olders Little runner boy Running yards Like soldiers My bros tell me ima blow like foden Tekky on the pitch Flip flap Round the keeper got the goal wipe open Pretty one airing I ain’t into hearing Let me take you to the old days Times i didn’t have shit I used to link this ting By the steps where the cats live Had a freaky bitch in the bed doing back flips Another on my line Like kian where’s the cash bin 3 girls Bro that’s what I call a hat trick One I made wifey The others had to dash quick Running from the feds threw the Flicky in a black bin Cah I ain’t looking at night sleeping On a dirty matricas My bro makes the packs flip I told him be stay safe g Counting 20 10s More bread than a bakery I’m fed up of these bait lies I’m fed up of the fakery Word to my bruddahs Iknow that they could never snake me