Picture This

The beat box

Turn the beat up a bit

Turn me on

Picture this

Picture this, picture little old Slim

Now were talking half a milly if were talking 'bout my sim

They tryna work? Then I'm offering cash and these rappers don't turn up

Why? 'Cause they got problems with the gang

It's Louis squares on my pedal and nothin' come free

There was a lot of long nights to get the phone lines mental

No risk, no reward, now my **** flying Brum

We need sweets for the fours, we don't deets or do frauds

This is trap shit, yo, it's forty bags for a brick, it's getting drastic

Talking thirty bags in rubber bands, that's a sandwich

I promise that the trap phone is never off and tell the judge that'll never stop

Lookin' there's no looking back and my jeans cost a stack

And that's Damier print on my belt and my bag

I ain't looking for a help or a hand

Just a spot out of town, couple pics and like two or three cats

Thrown like two or three grams, youngest tryna get rich

If it ain't worth my time then of course it's getting ripped

If she's coming to the crib then of course she's getting dick

This year, I'm looking mortgages and shit

And they're talkin' 'bout the kid but I'm just keeping it real

And I'm cuttin' true with scazzi and he's keeping it still

And the day I left jail, I said I'm never goin' back

Well that **** is shit, it ain't ever in my plans (I'm gone)

Picture this, picture little old Slim

Now were talking half a milly if were talking 'bout my sim

They tryna work? Then I'm offering cash and these rappers don't turn up

Why? 'Cause they got problems with the gang

Picture this, picture little old Slim

Now were talking half a milly if were talking 'bout my sim

They tryna work? Then I'm offering cash and these rappers don't turn up

Why? 'Cause they got problems with the gang

All of that negative shit that just kept a **** goin'

Thought he won what I'm rollin', the excuse that I'm dodging

Bro watch out for the people who is watching your pocket

And the ones who never cared when you was poppin', my G, this is hood shit

Growing up, my teacher probably said I was a good kid but look at what the hood did

Yo, I fell in love with the Pyrex and the juggin' and death said you gotta make time for these bookings

But yo, just look here, Dizzee's copping mics like a Taliban and last week, the buj came from Pakistan

I put the truth in the booth and a thousand on some shoes and nowadays, these girls are always mad at man

'Cause I don't love 'em but they love me

I tell 'em, "Fuck girls, love country"

I swear these **** looking like some junkies

The road is getting cold and that trap needs jump leads

Look I'm callin' that a fuckery (I'm gone)

Picture this, picture little old Slim

Now were talking half a milly if were talking 'bout my sim

They tryna work? Then I'm offering cash and these rappers don't turn up

Why? 'Cause they got problems with the gang

Picture this, picture little old Slim

Now were talking half a milly if were talking 'bout my sim

They tryna work? Then I'm offering cash and these rappers don't turn up

Why? 'Cause they got problems with the gang