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Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
Blade Brown
Lead Vocals
LD
Lead Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Jonathan Wrate
Songwriter
Cassiel Wuta-Ofei
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Swifta Beater
Mixing Engineer
Trebo
Producer
Lyrics
[Intro]
I got money that I never seen, I call that progression
I beat a case and another one, I call that a blessing
Heard that they're plotting on **** now, teach 'em a lesson
[Verse 1]
I know they're praying I fall off, I know it's depressing
That won't happen ever, sorry, mate
Twenty suttins in the lorry, mate
Do you get me? Does it correlate?
What's your order? I'll accomodate
And I can talk it 'cause I back it
This is fully automatic
Little suttin for the static
But they ain't even in my bracket
And I got drillers with me, I got trappers with me
And they juugin' till the night done
Pretty diva, I just piped one
I'ma spoil her, she the right one
I told theses rappers: yeah, the hype's fun
But stack some bread for when the hype's done
Seven figures, that's the right sum
They wanna sign it then, I might run
And **** saying I don't rap enough
I just tell 'em: you don't trap enough
I can talk it, I can back it up
Your missus buss it and she back it up
Yeah, I don't know 'bout all this rapping stuff
These little rappers better pattern up
Furthermore, just get your brackets up
[Verse 2]
I might just sell my next verse and make a yearly salary
That's why these trappers be mad at me
True say they know l'm a booter, the realist in drill, and there's no one as gang as me
Who you know shell at the opps, then go shell down a show in the morning so casually?
Feds had me locked for conspiracy
I just walked out on bail so casually
Tell these labels don't bother
'Less there's quarter milli in the offer
Me and bro united, we control the middle of the field like Matic and Pogba
Any time I pull up: mazza
Bang, I still make it beat like Gotcha
Man load up the car near Foster and kill a K-Trap imposter
Still drill and cut
Hope he turn pack and just bill it up
No one in Lambeth as real as us
**** talk reckless, be gettin' touched
Can't walk on road with no blicky tucked
Main man, so they want my Medusa cut
I ain't slippin' up
Only rap **** in the game still drillin'
And that there's nuttin' but big facts
Car, crib and the watch, that's big racks
LD and Blade, big wass
My **** shoot at the opps, they just cry on the net and try come with some diss tracks
We've got big waps
You're new to this ting, boy, we been bad
Three thousand grams in the gym bag
Eighty five bags in the bin bag
6 Gang
[Outro]
I got money that I never seen
I beat a case and another one
Heard that they're plotting on **** now
I know they're praying I fall off
Written by: Cassiel Wuta-Ofei, Jonathan Wrate