[Intro: Lil Cap & Wiked]
Woi-oi
That's how we do it
Let's go
Lil Cap, Mandem
[Verse 1: Lil Cap & Wiked]
Stay strapped no mask
Live day by day for the gang
Talk too much it's the end
Chat shit get banged
Chat shit get banged
Come through where you hang
And the shawty's onto the gang
Just me and the Mandem
Roll off the back end
Leave a boy there where he stand
And nowadays Mandem are on top
Scratch that, nowadays Mandem on head tops (Woi)
On the pitch I'mma get man sent off
Straight red card for an off cut let off (let off)
I can cop that weed for a dead prof
Money haffi mek so I'm on to thе next spot (money haffi mek)
Yеah we pull up on you, get you M'ed off
Volley aim head, no time for a leg shot
[Verse 2: Lil Cap]
Yeah we pull up on you with an AK
Buddy got an extended mag ('tended mag)
We leave him in the streets, nah
They limp in a body bag
Body bag, body bag
Bitch I be counting bags
Yeah, shawty been actin' up (actin' up)
She's on my right hand (rent free)
I woke up with the feels of a demon
So hot that the North Pole stop freezin'
I'm bringing back the feelin' to a meanin'
I'm the meanest, can't see me I'm like Cena
I woke up with the feels of a demon
So hot that North Pole stop freezin'
I'm bringing back the feelin' to a meanin'
I'm the meanest, can't see me I'm like Cena
[Interlude: Lil Cap]
See ya, bitch
Down Bad Records x Mandem
Wiked, Lil Cap
Greatest artists alive baby
[Verse 3: Lil Cap]
Don't know 'bout me I'm Lil Cap
Bitch I pull up onto your block with the boys and they got the straps
You shoot bananas here while I be shooting the .457 mag
This a one in the chamber, I'm spitting bullets on the track
Yeah, I been spitting bullets ever since a kid, motherfucker
They been telling me everybody's a real motherfucker
Everybody been telling me, everyone has said that to me
Better be ready but I'm coming in and spraying artillery
All the fuckers acting smart and they be telling me shit
Like the rat to the feds who were lit on this bitch
Yeah sky was the limit, now it's the stars I brought myself from Earth to Mars
[Verse 4: Wiked]
Man slide through the block with no pressure
Pop the boot yeah your boy enter
Don't make me let off this Colchester
Cause I don't have time for a protestor
One of ya boys let bells raise up
We drop a man quick, next contester
There's no range up on this Colchester
But this bait boy come with the compressor
Shotgun shell make a man lose focus
Make a man steer real grim, ask Moses
They know that I got heat like Zuko
Jump in the booth and it's so explosive
Jump in the booth and that shit is frightening
Manna come through with fire and lightning
Shotguns loaded, flows ignited
Got no time for a side ting