Next Up - S3-E39, Pt.1

[Intro: YD]
Ayy, Tweeko mixed this, you know? It sounds cold
X10
Ayy

[Verse 1: YD]
If I crave it, I cop it
Bill up my rass King L, like a skunk, it smells
Get the grub, then lock it
I can't do three 5's for a 20s
Three for 30 to better my pocket
Got this brownin' shakin' her arse
My wap in her Bra, so you know mans got it
YD i'm the real hot topic
Gyal whine up your waist
TikTok it, then drop it
I don't know 'bout love
In the trap I was makin' dough
You was at home tryin' to buss your nut
If 7 bands get put on your head
Young boys on the 'Ped
Tryin' to send man up
I’m a real top ‘shotta like Tommy
But I revise when I buss my gun
I was fourteen stealin' 'peds
I had no behaviour I did it for fun
Rev up the Typh' on the pavement
There’s no way that I’m tryin' to get spun
ANPR in my rear-view mirrors
Fuckin' hell, here the boydem come
De-camp that whip by the barbers
I’m charged up and I’m ready to run

[Verse 2: JS]
They know where I’m at
They know where I stay
Slide thru to the petrol station
Fill up the 'dings with a mask on my face
No jokes, no games, cut through no delay
You won’t even know who’s who
When the G's slide through
And the Mac-10 sprays
They’re pushin' their mates
Some selfish yutes brudda back your blade
Like, you don’t wanna see what I got in the duffel
Buck into me late night
Imma back my knife I ain’t into a scuffle
Like don’t ever try and get a dish did
Shh got bucked and he ate these knuckles
In the trap watch the YOLA bubble
On strips tryin' to cause some trouble
Lift up the wap like a bad ones frontal

[Verse 3: YD]
I've got mine, and bros got his
So you know, it is what it is
Mummy hates the life that I live
But what can I say? I was born into this
Soon be in a buss-down
Press the clutch down
My rear lights ‘gon shine like Veneers
With four Os in my bag like Audi
Little nigga lemme make it clear
And if you chat my name on the net
But you ain’t got no bread
What the fuck you doin'?
Bop through your ends on a baitface
I’m a bait face who the fuck you screwin'?
And I ain’t no killer, don’t push me
Before your white T-Shirt get ruined
And certain man can’t hit my spliff
'Cah I know that it’s pussy they chewin'

[Verse 4: JS]
Phones at home that’s Airplane Mode
YD said jump in the ride
So I jumped in the ride with nothin’ but smoke
Big rambizz get back from my coat
I ain’t inna no jokes tryin' to leave man soaked
Don’t ask if it’s, on my hip
Beg a yute give me lip, then your boy will know
Fifteen inch or the twenty-two inch
Either way a [?] yute still holdin' a ching
Forget that passa I’m over with it
Fly pebs on the street, reload in a bit
And how could you talk on my name
When you’re sat in the trap and your stuck on a Q?
Wagwarn for these new plate yutes?
Love talk ‘bout trap but they made no moves
Blacked out ballied up and we left no clues
Bang rounds, strallied up ‘till we get those yutes
You know that the gangdems litty
Pour me a cup then strap me a zoot
No space in the back can’t roll with a broom
Bad ones love playin' my tunes
Mind how you step when the gang cut through
Bad ones love playin' my tunes
Mind how you step when the gang cut through