Mad About Bars - S6-E15

[Intro]
(KP Beatz)

[Verse 1]
Put money on your hat, you niggas cappers
Your rappers favourite rapper, of course we've made trappers
You ain’t never did no dirt, you and your boys facades
Got no degree but got a masters with a fork n' carbs
So much work up in the house, I'm feelin’ awkward
Crop dryin', leaves on the floor, it's like autumn
Fixed more bottoms than BBL's
Still fuck my Opps, hate niggas more than EDL
LV stitchin', rockin' Richard, I'm money mitchin'
Views crazy, see Manchester from the pent I live in
Never finished school, the teachers called us fools
300k in jewels, this icе keeps me cool
Need three M’s like Eminem
Diamonds on mе, water baby, settin’ trend
Sent ten NSG, there's still seven men
[?] Glock on the side, n’ I ain't Eminem
Made my name shootin' people, I was lively
Ex try move n' I ain’t met nobody like me
Love the D, [?] fit em like a tight tee
What you smokin' on ain't loud bro, it's [?]
Loads of Pyrex stories when the soft sinks
Makin' money off of boxes like Don King
Talk so much shit, I need a soft mint
Still pretend I'm not a driller to my posh ting
Don't ever call her back, I'm in her bad books
Neck, chest and up, that's your donny in a Backwood
Car shoppin', might go and get a Lamborghini
Keep talkin' wass, might fly your babe to Santorini
Scared to bring me home to mum cause' I'm a bad boy
I flew cunch with a pack, I never had choice
Remember I was down to my last coins
Now it's four litre, drinkin' like Gascoigne
For my half M anniversary I bought a anniversary ST from slash town, I'm hella certi
My bro tired of trident, now it's crypto binance
Plug love me like a son, it's thirty squares on finance
Are they mad at you or hatin'? Maddest yute
Had to leave some behind, that's what I had to do
Buj up in a ten ton stank out the room
Had me sneezin' like I had the Flu
Prolly' put me in Guantanamo Bay if they see my artillery
So much drip on, it's slippery
Even my pagans are feelin' me
Got three man down, same wap, it's a trilogy
Addicted to rubber bands, it's sad, I need therapy
In a SVR, not your dads Cherokee
I used to have a broken window in my Renault
Now the cocaine from the same place as Canelo
Streets keep callin' me back, I couldn't let go
My skins packed g, I've been washin' off in petrol
No white flag and still callin' me a Johnston
Still had work on the strip when I was jobless
Imagine me at seventeen, problems
Chef, I cook it anywhere, campfire, hobblers
Told her bend it over, needs to arch it
Still circle two times when I park it
Head and wap out the window like I'm car sick
Never froze on a glide like bunny rabbit and [?]