Gang Bus

[Intro]
Sebzbeats baby

[Chorus]
Mind out who jumps on the gang bus, might end up with us in handcuffs
In the Ville that's dinner and bang up, on road that's dingers and hand guns
We used to rob niggas, keep their hands up, now we trap in the flats 'till the packs done
When I leave my yard my shanks tucked, but it might end up in a mans guts
Mind out who jumps on the gang bus, might end up with us in handcuffs
In the Ville that's dinner and bang up, on road that's dingers and hand guns
We used to rob niggas, keep their hands up, now we trap in the flats 'till the packs done
When I leave my yard my shanks tucked, but it might end up in a mans guts

[Verse 1]
Let me show you how the ting goes
I was cheffing man down with M when CB's rammy got bruck in the window
Two waps up now you're talking lingo
You don't wanna see Local let the spin go cah you might get smoked like singles
Bells in the bag, you can hear them jingle
We got the drop on a opp at a party, nah, the gang never came to mingle
Parked round the corner and creep on the opp, and your spidey sense won't tingle
Them man there do drills on a tablet, how you do drills on a Amazon Kindle?
T-T-L one phone call, simple, chop that slate, hit M ways and then spots get popped like pimples
Knifework thorough but nimble, we got the young G's way too catty, they got the .32 doing up windmill
You got bun and chinged, and I got chinged, so why are you making a big deal?
I'm in the trap with cats, cockroaches, rats, baby wipes and some cling film
Astras, Skodas, Corsas, me and bro doing jump out gang bait on the main road, doing enforcings
And we're dishing out free smoke, why the fuck would I dish out a warning?
Hop out the ride and bore him
P[?] Green, they booked Ch****, man can't tell me nuttin' 'bout touring
We score points can't tell me 'bout scoring

[Chorus]
Mind out who jumps on the gang bus, might end up with us in handcuffs
In the Ville that's dinner and bang up, on road that's dingers and hand guns
We used to rob niggas, keep their hands up, now we trap in the flats 'till the packs done
When I leave my yard my shanks tucked, but it might end up in a mans guts
Mind out who jumps on the gang bus, might end up with us in handcuffs
In the Ville that's dinner and bang up, on road that's dingers and hand guns
We used to rob niggas, keep their hands up, now we trap in the flats 'till the packs done
When I leave my yard my shanks tucked, but it might end up in a mans guts

[Verse 2]
How many opps already held chestshots? Dot-dot, rusty, no red dot
Them man do their drills on a desktop, when we pull up tryna leave mans head off
Dum-dum already lacked, then he got whacked, scar like Lescott
Pull up on smoke, the opps dem know, car doors pop or we do it on Vespas
Said they talk 'bout the guys, your friends just died, the opps dem clown like jesters
And when I'm dressed all black, [?] know don't lack, shove blades in sweaters
And I heard I'm not far from the scales, man that can't be me, man I've got clips with bells
Don't run, come hold one of these golden shells
I had fiends throwing up in a flat while you was at gaff tryna call them girl
Smoke in a ride, tryna take mans life, if I get bagged I won't get bail
That's what I call mission failed
I can't go back to the pop downs on top, lockdown, trapped in a cell, me and my friends banged up in them jails
Countless times I was writing 'em mail, man got Banton and light as well
Man ain't scrapping knifes and bells, stack or rise or the pump and shell
We put smoke on streets, try blow these neeks, we some local geezers
And he must be dumb, still slap it at Scumz, man can't tell me 'bout Hope Dealers

[Chorus]
Mind out who jumps on the gang bus, might end up with us in handcuffs
In the Ville that's dinner and bang up, on road that's dingers and hand guns
We used to rob niggas, keep their hands up, now we trap in the flats 'till the packs done
When I leave my yard my shanks tucked, but it might end up in a mans guts
Mind out who jumps on the gang bus, might end up with us in handcuffs
In the Ville that's dinner and bang up, on road that's dingers and hand guns
We used to rob niggas, keep their hands up, now we trap in the flats 'till the packs done
When I leave my yard my shanks tucked, but it might end up in a mans guts