manicacs

the state of the game is a tragedy

everybody's licking shots

everybody's bagging b

they say i wrap raw casually

real talk i really had a nigga up in casualty

and nah i ain't talking 'bout the series

feel free to ask me

i'm addressing all your queries

and darg i only roll with a couple bruddas

most man are clowns they remind me of the chuckle brothers

and yeah my family's tight

just b

dre and c

i could name a couple others

but i ain't baiting up names

it's bad enough i'm on the road baiting up 'caine

after a hard day's work darg

i'm ringing up keisha

i'm rating that brain

but nah back to the subject

most of the niggas on this rap ting are suspect

you never see them on the strip late

sweardown fam i can't listen to these mixtapes

they say they're all on the grind

i get that peng yeah i call it the shine

because it glistens in the light

this is real talk don't listen to the hype

every time i spit it's like i'm christening the mic

these niggas must be smoked when they're kissing on the pipe

move so scatty in life

stuck in the traphouse packaging white

look to the left of me

the matic's in sight

clip's loaded up

proper smack it in right

my strategy's nice

look for a hottie on a saturday night

i was looking ravaged that night

boogs kinda shocking with the adidas stripe

got rounds in the strap cocked

i come round have your town under mad lock

and i ain't come round for a slap job

i come round

i'll be sounding the mac off

take all your hats off

got the whole rap game in a padlock

and i ain't playing with you fags 'cause

it could end bloodstains on your laptop

cocaine i done bagged lots

gotta link a duss head round bagshot

there's a yellow sign up on the corner

asking anyone if they saw who stabbed bob

don't say that i'm wack 'cause

you've got hollowman playing in your rag top

plus i got your princess in my flat dog

balls in her mouth

call it a sack job

more hype

why?

cause i fucked your baby momma

marmite

why?

love me or hate me brudda

underrate me ima

still make my butter

snowflakes in summer

i'm an a-class shover

not the mercedes

couple eights i'll plug up in your girlfriend's buttocks

or her purse maybe

pull up in a car at the curb she'll leave

i might bring a couple dargs to your territory

fuck the metaphors b

cheap ass nigga you'll get peppered for free

as for stepping on feet? steel-toe caps

so when i step on the street i pay no tax

feds mentioning me? you don't know man

'cause the nitties they need me like coke cans

probation don't see me

don't show fam

'cause i'm peddling diesel

that dope man

look

now it's time that i think i get my dick polished

hit the club unshaven

rick ross ish

plus the coke's unshaven

big boss ish

and the colt just came in

giggs's promise

so you better just hide your goods

'cause i'm better with this 9 iron than tiger woods

let me show you the real meaning of time flying inside the shoobz

get your watch popped and your shine took by minor crooks