Mic Check

[Verse 1 - Pak-Man & Shaker]
We're the realest Asians rapping in London and that's facts
I'm just tryna double my money and stack racks
Life that I'm living's expensive like black cabs
From a place full of shotters and nutters like Mad Max
They feel us in London, Nottingham and Bolton
Rolling through Luton, cannabis smoking
Man I've been frozen, extravagant clothing
I ain't even boasting, my pockets been bulging
These two rings on my fingers, I could buy your Golf
I might fly out, chill on the Hawaiian coast
We've got our people behind us, it's time we blow
Up and down the UK headlining shows
Running through the city like a marathon
Hermes belt and my Stone Island jacket on
Or it might be Cavalli or Moncler
Ain't another jawn that can compare

[Verse 2 - Pak-Man]
I remember when I fell flat
I had to grind my arse off just to bring myself back
I weren't eating lobster then, just burgers from Al Haq
Waiting on my sales akh
Plus I'm coming from a place where these yutes don't want jobs
They wanna buy guns and sell crack
I could put my life in a film
I ain't tryna spend my life in the field
I'm tryna see all my bruddas get right from the Hill
I couldn't hate on a man over a nice set of wheels
Man are moving like bitches, I left grands around bitches
And they never touch a pound, hold me down, so I dig 'em
I beat mad women, keep racks spinning
I'm about to go and can't relax, listen
Back at the Italian, sea-bass fillet
But my swagger all from Paris, watch these lads kill it
I grew round the realest, I grew round some killers
I've been around the world, I've flew out to villas
I remember nights when I was down in the mud
Then I sat down with the plug, look
Gelato 41 got me higher than the clouds above
Walking round, you can smell the loud on us
Strolling through any city I want
Team Shaker and Team Pak-Man, I'm on
Pagans tried to put an end to my life but I'm still here
Cause I've got the strength to survive
Every city on the map, they're listening to man
And I'm only spitting facts, my name ringing like a MAC
Vision in my brain, mic up in my hand
Can't spend a million with the gang, need ten million in the bank
Till it's getting out of hand, back to reality
I'm sticking to the plan, let me flip another gram

[Verse 3 - Shaker]
I make it look easy like one-two-three
Bricks like the wise men, they're coming in threes
Going blind like the three mice running through trees
All I'm seeing is the blue like I'm wanted by the D's
Bubbles in my ear, my cannabis green
Twenty-four grams but my cannabis clean
Got me taking weed naps, having tangerine dreams
Sitting in the trap, just me and the old Queen
Opened up packs like Ultimate Team
Blowing loud stacks and we're blowing some steam
Straight out the bank, got the crispiest cream
They be like "Shak my brother, how you been?"
I'm like "fall back motherfucker, where you been?"
When I was face flat in the gutter with my team
I just had the toast with the butter and the beans
I can never really trust anyone, that's the thing
They're showing fake love, they don't want you to win
When they see you fly they try puncture your wings
They don't wanna see you go from a bum to a king
They don't wanna see you grind from the morn to the night
They wanna see you shine but your jewellery bright
Keep shitting on 'em
My brother, keep shitting on 'em
Dream chaser, #TeamShaker
I'm tryna go further than the green laser
Get busier, Nivea, cream maker
They don't like me, bun them, cremator
All this powder on my hands like a weightlifter
Then I mix it in the bowl like it's cake mixture
In the four I've got the raw like the beige Rizla
Snap, snap, take a picture
I ain't got no chill, had enough of running from Old Bill
Looking for a runner like Ozil
Big Shak, I need my money longer than O'Neal
Talking bout this bread, brudda I need a whole mill
Heading to the money, imma run these reds
Middle finger in the air, screaming "fuck these feds"
'012, I was struggling to dump three Z's
Now the food moves faster than Chun-Li's legs
And this constant counting, it's cold at the top like mountains
My socks and my boxers Calvin
Tryna mad monk, no Shaolin
Flowering firearm long like Dhalsim