In The Fire

[Verse]
Niggas left your boy when it really mattered
Then I lost my nigga and it left me shattered
Drinking all this Hennessy, getting battered
Thinking "Fuck rap", I'm tired bro, I'm super knackered
Smoking all this weed, tryna keep me numb
Feds kicked my door again for them guns
My money looking low, it was nearly none
Times I had to duck the fire, I was nearly done
I won't ever be the same but the plug ain't changed
Niggas go their different ways but I love my lanе
The industry know I'm the coldest so fuck thе game
Look how long that I've been outside in the fucking rain
Now I ain't even tryna be around these silly nerds
You know a rapper's real if I give him a verse
No longer in my feelings, I ain't even mad
Any disrespect from here, I'm dealing with 'em bad
Smiling in my face but they really hate me
If I kill that boy they're gonna call me snaky
Smiling in my face but they really hate me
If I kill that boy they're gonna call me snaky
I ain't tryna be around in every spot
Cah I'm liable to shoot if suttin gets me hot
I ain't tryna be around in every spot
Cah I'm liable to shoot if suttin gets me hot
Shawty know I'm gangster even though I'm sweet
I'm collecting new Brownie points every week
Gotta hold the peace, really help me sleep
Gotta put them YSL's on your pretty feet
Shit is deep, I need the pack, I'm stuck here in them flats
You think I do this for a GRM Daily plaque?
A hundred pebs of each, that's my daily pack
Gotta navigate this motorway and make it back
Yo this mind frame's fucked, I gotta burn these trees
I give these little niggas packs and feel I earned a deed
I did it for the team, there's nothing worse than greed
So I'ma take the extra work and the birds I need
I can't wait till they give us a break
No gloves in the trap, I finger fuck the flake
A day in the life, it ain't nothing nice
I had Rashid in the trap bussing down some white
All now this rap shit ain't got no stacks for me
It's just pain every time I tell these rap stories
We call Heathbrook the towers cah there's ten storeys
Every time I call the plug there's like ten for me
It ain't no secret, I'm around these streets
I keep a strap on me like some dungarees
We was child soldiers like the Congolese
Ten bricks of weed, the money grow on trees
I got trap stories no one won't believe
I see brown cats, it's like they got fleas
Keep my bally on, can't let 'em know it's me
Keep a duffle bag full up just for lawyer fees
I make rap music, that's just for the G's
Bitches know I'm anti and it ain't for keeps
Niggas know what's up, I came up Gaskell Street
Haters gonna hate but it ain't actual beef
Them hittas tryna slide on a casual evening
Nothing even happened, they just had a feeling
Every time I drop a track it's racks I'm cleaning