1 Up

Hella food in the rucksack that's a lunch box
I don't ever fly cunch box but when I touch box I let the guns pop
Hella talk about they run blocks I'm like run what
I've been there and I've done lots you ain't been there when the funds stop and your funs dropped
Pu ppy yute big ears that's a Labrador
Run up in your gaff don't mind if I have a tour
Big pump better tell your boy run just came back from cunch so I know that his stacking draws
Fat blade made his mummy jump drop the TV remote then she instantly smacked the floor
I'll gun buck his little bro with his toy gun, if the little fassio try back the war
The yute want hide but you know I'ma get him done
I told him his gonna hold smoke that's the prize when I let it off
I'll bill up outside mans gaff hold smoke through your letterbox
I see his little bros at home fuck that I'm gonna send him shops
Mad drought so I had to phone up Rambo, telling me his with Rico I said say nothing wheres Camsz though
Told me he just left the ends to go buck jerks in the bando I said swear down he said swear down and with grimzy we're on our way now
She telling me she goes low I said I know so
She give me blow blow till she choke-o
I told her to go slow she saying no no
I'm tired of this hoe I tell her go home
I'm in the trap I'm with the gang I'm with my goonies
They're talking trash bout this and that just come and do me
She hella bad she giving hat she wanna do me
She topping man so she can never touch my doobie
Two hands on stick when I grip it
How you bussing shots and your purposely missing
Talk loads bout your holding the kitchen no kitchen when the gang gone fished him
Swear down man I'm tired of these bitches Grimzy taking his belt then he whipped it
Swear down man I'm tired of these bitches Grimzy taking his belt then he whipped it