Why you actin' like you trappin' when you blatantly not
You just baitin' at your vehicle and makin' it hot
I got zedz of the raw and I got flake by the rock
Like Foden takin' a cross, I got cane by the box
I need that big bread, no french baguette
Run up in your yard like Darg where the treasure chest
If a brother try violate the ting
Watch T put a strap to his head, Petre check
Stay humble, we ain't runnin' out of cemeteries
There's man doin' shootouts and I ain't talkin' penalties
I feel to let it squeeze on my enemies
And not stop until the block's hotter than Tenerife
But keep my name up out your mouth
Cause there's a charge for that
Don't end up like these guys who turn broke just for talkin' back
All this talkin smack can short on your lifespan
My brother, you should just give it a rest like cardiac
I stay vigilant by memorizin' reg plates
Alert my brothers if the feds are on the estate
Nowadays it really is survival of the smartest
Cause the roads are like a game of chess until you get checkmate
Until I make a milli, I will not settle
I need me a rollie with a top bezel
But I shouldn't have to look too far
Cause there's fake G's in the club, steamin' with hot kettles
Brudda, I'm a block rebel, certified hood celeb
My youngers would chop your hands off for a couple zed
So if it gets sticky then it goes off
Don't hesitate to bring those arms out like a muscle vest
You don't really want smoke, don't be stupid
I pull up with some Rami, Rajas and some Subliks
My brother T, he's my right hand
Disrespect my brother, I will shorten your lifespan
Fuck a Batmobile, I'm in my trap mobile
Mess about then I'ma show you how this Rambo feels
If you see me skirt pass, brother, mind your business
I'm on the road, wheelspinnin', tryna stack those bills
Cause I'm that boy, trap boy, bad boy behavior
And I'm old school like Nintendo 64 and Sega Fam
Everyday I'm out collectin' paper, man
But you ain't makin' paper, you're paper stuck in a paper jam
Dargy, yo, yo, yo, dargy, Darg
I make cash every time that I start the car
See me in the whip with your main chick
She want a cream on a stick like Haagen-Dazs
Certified rapper, trapper, best in the ends
If you got me on your back, you best invest in a skeng
Cause I know some skinny brothers with some big arms
That won't hesitate to let it bust till the clip gone
Dodgin' on the covers, memorizin' them number plates
Bees in the whip, but I ain't tryna get stung today
I told them everyday's the money day
No Mayweather, tryna get that money made
Bitch, I'm tryna stack it and flip
We ain't the same, I'm a man, you's are kids
You want that Louis badge on your drip
I need that Louis stamp on a brick
I'm in my own lane on some different flex
It's not pancake day, but I'm still flippin' bread
Opium residue, dog, I had to disinfect
I really made a living out of Kinder Eggs
Plain clothed Feds tryna catch the car
Like, yes, officer, I resist the rest
I built lines for the yayo and that scatty hard Darg
I've been through more lines than a kitchen sesh
Now I can see why you're constantly pissed off
Your wife thinks she literally a fan
How's her boyfriend still thinkin' he's the man
With my nut up on her chest like Zinedine Zidane