Gun Show

[Verse 1: Ets]
E-T-S, man, I move mad pscyho
I keep taking man's weight like lypo
I see bare washed youts wan' try smoke
Till I start dishing out bangs to a guy's throat
I move sick for the Ps, tryna find notes
I take risks, I ain't really tryna lie low
Man down, if I go, grab my guys close
My Team Paid, we ain't really tryna die broke
And we ain't really tryna die poor
I move greaze for the dough, tryna buy more
I move grub in the snow, tryna buy mores
I got lost in the trap tryna line jawns
I've got slags on my dick but it ain't porn
I've got youts on my back, they can hold corn
I've got shells on my mind but it ain't corn
I've got food in the trap but I'd like more
I ain't swiping my card like Tracey
Gyal send me cute faces cause they rate me
Nike tracky on, grey, not navy
Beef me? Chest open like page three
Yatties wanna bone me, tell her I'm lazy
Gyal wanna text me but I'd rather play FIFs
Don't have a wife cuh she say I'm too facety
Cuh I wanna do music and make fees
I ain't swiping my card like AJ
Cash-in-hand, I'm old school like gateways
Phone plug, tell him bring me that peng flake
Grab that, drop the Lyca, I'm a sensei
Bag that, send that way up the M-way
Grab slags, tell her give me that peng brain
Bad yout way before I had an engage
Bad yout way before I had an engage

[Verse 2: Lyrical Strally]
My initials are double M
Spit bars like a 9-double-m
Tryna get B-I-G like the Z-double-U
Twenty MCs want it
I'll send twenty shots, lyrical MAC-10
Don't give me cheek like Loftus
I've got forty punchlines like Ets
LS-hyphen-S, got too many texts
I spit bars for the ravers
Tranquilise MCs like ket
Don't smoke blem, don't smoke grets
Smoke MCs, no regrets
Won't see a dappy hat on my head
Or my family giving head
YGG, West and the North West
Not Kanye, that's West
And it's not North West
Buck Saint in West but it's not Saint West
It's tragic
Cuh round here, dem man ain't blessed
Man tried follow LS, got shegged
Group tried follow LS, got shegged
MTM don't tolerate bread
MTM, ain't one of us dead

[Verse 3: Ets]
See, I wanna fly out to Valencia
Where you man are left back like Gaya
Man, I'm still raising shots like Alcacer
I hit man in his drive with Maya
You can't ever say Ets is a liar
You can't ever say Ets ain't fire
You can't ever say Ets ain't mashed work
Ets done bare shots like cider
See, I can fuck man's wife like he's Terry
And I can still lick shots like Remy
See, AJ got the wetter in his right hand
But I still use my left like Messi
See, I can fuck man's wife like he's Terry
And I can still lick shots like Remy
See, AJ got the wetter in his right hand
But I still use my left like Messi

[Verse 4: Lyrical Strally]
Hmm, it's LS
I spit like a 38 special
And I'm so special
They're looking for me with a speshy
But they can't catch Malex, they can't catch Malecky
I'm too much like Skeppy and Fekky
Always ready like the porridge brekky
You'll get wrecked if you're acting recky
L Strally ain't got a beard
So you don't know my age like Martin's, over Febby
I'm a shooter like Ets or Remy
Snipe a man like Wesley
Pipe your girl, wake up, eat brekky
And leave the table messy
Not from T but I still move prezi
Wanna diss me? I be like oi, steady