Part 1
[Intro]
Urban Kulture Sound
GotchaBxtch
[Verse 1: JTrizzy]
Pretty little thing, I ain't talking clothes
I might have to take her home (I might)
She's telling me that I'm bad to the bone
If only her parents knowed (If only)
Get turned to a pack, I ain't talking cro
You can get sent down low (You can)
No way can I leave my bro, let's go, back my shank, aim at throats
No way can you chat like this, energy lost when I back my nizz
Shawty wan' fuck with the kid
Tell me she loves this life I live (Love it)
Get fished, ah shit, that's a chissed wet block
Can't lie, little man don't slip (Don't slip)
Do a drill, go back to my crib
Sweet little one, come suck this dick
He dashed, I splashed his pumpkin
I'm carving on the mains, I'm laughing (Aha)
Their gang don't drill, that's jarring
I'm hunting, can't find these bastards (Where they at?)
Them man come gay like Marvin
Not learning like they're skipping classes
They just do a dash like Sonic, start jumping, lose rings when clarted
I'm tryna gain cake regardless
Not fasting, I eat, they're starving
And when I get bread I'm halving, not heartless 'til l I back my cutlass
Get served this beef, no butlers, just brothers
Don't push our buttons
Young G better follow instructions
No Simon when I say "Go bun him"
[Verse 2: Kfrmda3s]
Black men just hop out the whizz
With the stainless kitch, I don't know who did it (Who did that?)
Finish, this rambzi's no flickage, dig dat
Blade in your back, all spillage (Ching, ching)
How you beefin' when you ain't seen figures?
Bitch ass niggas, wannabe drillers (Dickhead)
Bro-bro can't get to the dots
He's stepping to your block with the stainless dippers (Bow, bow)
Sinners, not gonna lie we're vicious
Face on the top for the cops and singers
They wanna see cash, no pictures (Ay)
Drop to the Farm, it's calm, drop knickers
They talk about drills they ain't done (No way)
Niggas just run, don't slip where you're hiding
These fibbers just rap, no riding
Back that blade in the case, see who's fighting (Ay, back that)
Swing that shanks on the mains like Viking
Two leathers on when he tap that trig'
Quick, this nigga here can't sprint
Man's chinging him down 'til he grows some wings
Or billing up zoots on the paigon strip (Ay, bill that)
Two man already turned pack and they never come back
Coming like some ticks (They're gone)
Pricks, backing out shanks from hips
And they're dropping their ramz when they this stick
Like, pedal bike trips we're lurkin'
And purgin' tryna catch this nig'
Lord, I pray that an OG slips
That would've been a quick 3-0 hat-trick
Like, how many times has Trigs been clipped?
That's bare 'round the OB strip
Flame them garms, not tryna get nicked
Pedal bike mode, man risk that solo
Or bruck grub, that's bolo (Bruck that)
Me and T gonna pitch that postcode
Send out a text, what's next? That's promo (Ay send that)
OT living, man, risk that, did that
How many times have we flipped packs? (How many?)
Man's back in the T, no breaks 'cah I missed that
Tell a young G "Go hit that" (Go fly that)
Part 2
[Intro: Kfrmda3s]
Minkzy
Urban Kulture Sound
Latex on when broski wid it
Tell the young G's "Turn back, don't fish him"
Raise that wand and click it
Food in the scales, man lock it, chop it
Really tryna make more profit
Things and stuff in the bag, who's got it?
Ride out, see a door just popping
Best find out why the opps ain't stopping
[Verse 1: Kfrmda3s]
Lurk on blocks, find opps that's baking (Where you at?)
No talk, get caught, get shaving
Now I'm in O tryna dodge this bacon (Bu, bu)
Flip packs in the loaded bandos
Cobra, all for the bands I'm making (Truss)
Me and bro try kill yutes, that's blatant (Kill that yute)
Ain't got no patience, swing it with force, of course, that's dangerous
Back then we used to grip on stainless
Now we got sweets that fly, no rocket (Boom)
Can't lie, man, I love this topic
Give him twenty, why bro so horrid? (Why?)
Yutes keep dropping
Got the bad B's telling me "Just stop it" (Ching, ching)
Flavours in the ends man's copping
Dellz in riz, this line keeps popping (It does)
More time just fly up cunch
Flipping this grub, might need more chopping
Back then used to kick and punch him
Now it's big guns that sneeze, no pollen (Boom)
Drip that's foreign, now we make yutes just drip, real shit (Truss)
My young boy makes bands from shotting (Send him)
Send him OT, go stain some pricks (Bap)
Latex on, no broski wid it (Wid it)
Tell the young G's "Turn back, don't fish him"
Raise that wand and click it (Boom)
Food in the scales, man lock it, chop it
Really tryna make more profit
Things and stuff in the bag, who's got it? (Who's got that?)
Ride out, see a door just popping
Best find out why the opps ain't stopping (Skrr, skrr, skrr)
[Verse 2: JTrizzy]
On the Hill, KB got slapped (Slapped)
He's way too fat for the bag
Gotta stretch him out, a bit got packed (I will)
Hella man just love to snap
Pin try chat when the kitchen snaps (Try chat)
I'm on their block, attack
Then send troops like Clash of Clans
These gyal tryna get on man
No rucksack, she's on my back (They're on man)
And they wan' chill in yards
Can't chill on strip where M got splashed (They can't)
Hella man just do up verbal then hurdle, like, why you dash? (Why you running?)
Can hold these shells, no turtle
Get Persol and clean my tracks (Clean my tracks)
Like, how could you draw me out? (Like, how?)
What's all the talk about?
I did up your friend, that's lightwork
And it's Lightwork that I'm doing now (Lightwork)
The feds try hard to bag me like the bad B tryna hack accounts (Hack them)
They're really tryna catch me out
Really get liz, then I'm cashing out (Cash out)
I'm tryna get rich, no cap
No Roddy, can't sing like akh (Don't sing that)
Don't die young like Dellz, that's facts
If you see me round there, get your head back whacked (Bubush)
Little nigga, that's facts
I've been round there in cabs
50/50, don't call them back (Don't call)
I've been spending nights in traps
Cats and cattie come short, get slapped (Get smack up)