Aight lets take it over to the B Side
Were doing it different still
You see me
Blue bar born 'n' bread
Gotta bring through some G's
First up, 30
Everyone's talking the things but nobody ain't bringin' out poles
Bunny wid Buckfiddy on the ride just know man's dishin' out smoke
If I'm not servin' up the kats somewhere I'm with bae-bae doin' up goals
I dunno anything about that crime, officer, I was sitting at home
Skid round der now, with the clip filled to the brim
Tryna spill a mans juice, like I just spilled out my drink
If I back the cheffers, you know I'm tryna kill when I ching
Fuck all of the pussyhole cops and free all my niggas in the bin
Gimme the drop, man, I go take that journey
Add that K on the opps, tryna leave man hashtag curly
Got groupies all on man cah they heard about gangdem, gyal too thirsty
I walk past gyal on the roads and they stop and whisper, "I swear that's 30"
Fuck HMP, dumb pigs try do man dirty
Chrome 9mil in my hand, cock back, man hold that sturdy
Or run, man, down with the blade tryna stain up mans new jersey
Don't come round me with your bricks cah I'll get man down for a birdy
Get man down on a ride chest up the ting, click-clack bang
Mans been lurky, slide round der with a dagger im 2 man deep with the scrams
Ching mans head, ching mans head wid my rambzy
Make juice spill down my hand ike they don't want smoke
They don't want conflict with man
Nah, dey don't want war with gang
Like fuck ten-toes, fuck ten-toes with the skeng
Man, get round der in a van
Man still don't lack, seventeen-inch on my waist man's still putting work with a rambz
Like free up grills, free up grills in the jail house
Got twelve years in the can, man chat on the phone
Man buss jokes with bro, said he nearly done 6 soon land, man know bout skengs
Two dum-dums in the gauge, spin ting 6 shots in the python
Link KK, big fat ting on his waist, bali on and you know I got my thing
Mans B-Side, 785 dat's gang that's hashtag Drillers&Violence
I can't get grabbed, hid from the chopper in the air
And I had to dip low from the sirens
Done talk, part three, done told man already stop talkin'
K on the B—are you lost? No dirt these niggas are boring
And how are my G's getting bagged
I think these niggas informing
Say nuttin', mans dishin' out corn den
No heads up I ain't givin' no warnings
Pull up on who? Skid round where?
Foot on the pedal there skrring
Glide on the B man spin that 'round
Bare back road route diversions
Real shit fam it's not just verses
Kway back been puttin' that work in
Them man are 16 plate gangsters, long time man shoulda got birded
So that was the sound of the 30
Representing BSide
So let's switch it up a little bit
It's Kenny Allstar, the voice of the streets
When I speak the streets listen
Introducing: KK
Lets get another one from the BSide, why not?
Mad About Bars
Season 2 settings
So nationwide
Great Britain
Take it in
KK, cut tru', my brudda
I'll get man down, we can bet like a bookies
Make him drown in his blood, he's already a pussy
Mans out on your block with the skeng, tryna turn man zoobies
And I got the zombie shank
I'm a zombie man when I bore through his hoodie
Murder one will be the outcome if you let the devil dem boogie
Fuck your dead up friend he turned cookie, fuck the opps dey get bullied
Dip man up with the jookie
I was in the trap with bro, while you was in the bus with pornie
Like, manna buss shots ten toes
And, manna buss shots in her pussy
Like you come catch man slippin'
But the skengs done cocked for my stepped into .40
Heard that your sprinter all in one, you're some fuckin' athletes
Curl up, dip up, stretch man out, then I burn my tracky
Cruisin' in the whip, my man try ram in the back g
He slammed in the car, he slammed in the car
I jumped out the back seat
I backed out my sammy
He crashed like a patty
And that's not the start
They're always in cars tryna cars or do dasheen
Samurai swords and handguns
Dot-dots, black blades, I'm happy
We run Lewi not dem
Look I been known as a Lewi hot head
B Side gang are the fucking problem
You ain't been about cah u know your options
Big man chill, you don't wanna drop dead
Twenty, twenty-three and you ain't got bread
Trip up and get cheffed
These dickheads fuck when I step
Buckfiddy cuts wid that chets
There's no silly punks in my set
Man will give you one in your chest
I don't Milly Rock or two-step
I just gully creep wid my skeng
There's no f*cking beam, it's just press
Shh-shh pack got me leaning mense
Man get whacked if you're screaming M
Two man deep, live corn on peds
Don't ask me why I'm beefing dem
Ask them man why they're feeling stressed
Thats what it is
Sound of the BSide
30, KK
Mad about bars, stay tuned until next time
Over and out