Freestyle - Track 2

[Verse]
East show love, so we show back
Telling chicks we love them just to let them hold straps
And fuck all these stereo pranksters
Real life here no fairy-tale gangsters
I’m from a hood where n*** let heat pop
And soft n*** turn hard on the keyboard
Facebook gangsters, YouTube Hype-men
Talking the hardest dirt till I find them
[?] Man it’s all love
Full of OGs and banging off tugs
Hood stay low, hat stays down
Dargs chase cats till the cash come round
Pigs wan’ tap any phone that I’m on
I don’t even shot so they know what I’m on
Straight up cash, R8 soon
Man I’m still payed off’a last yеar’s move
And I’m fed up of thesе snakey mates (why?)
It’s like they only happy on my rainy days
And all these young chicks move so bookey
I had to start bucking me a 80s babe
They see we make Ps in abundance
And we be the realest OGs ina London
See my hood’s full of gangs and sluts
And a couple young Gs on that bang bang stuff
They ride out on a random, cuz
Wind down and they let the handgun bust
And fuck pigs, they’re all racist bastards
It’s like they only happy when they handcuff us, and
They had me chilling on my lonesome
Like I miss the hood and all the commotion
But sitting in bin had me thinking (what)–
How come half of my n*** ain’t wrote man
I smile now but I blatantly hold in
19 years of pain and emotion
My girl says, “T, when you gonna stop?”
I tell her, “Babe I’m in love with the road ting”
The bandana’s grey that I’m holding
And I’ll flag that till the day that I’m ghosting
Fucking with these half hearts
Paigons caught me a case for a poking
See – I get it busy in the hood
Done dirt, got my Queen Lizzie looking good
Man I grew around [‘tek top’?] squeezers
Head top geezers, next stop’s Jesus
And if I get told you’re a singer
I’ll blow heat like it’s cold in the winter
See I’m better than your favourite rapper
[?] But he’s a Facebook rapper
And I will never lie to a yute
I don’t even rap, I’m just rhyming the truth
Charlie sloth, yeah I’m feeling his wave
But I’ve seen ‘nuff man turn liars in his booth, and
I do dirt on’a daily, if it’s personal - burst at your ladies
Coming round here in them flash cars
We got sticks that will merk your Mercedes
I put in work on my ACs
But never put in work on’a lady (why?)
I tell her straight “Look I don’t wanna beat
Can you suck me? I ain’t tryna earn me a baby”
Chicks dig when we swerve in them A3s
Wanna breed us cuh they heard that we make Ps
Man used to stack for them Nike Airs
Now I’m so Ralph’d off and Burberry’d, baby