(Gotcha)

[Verse 1]

It’s like any time we would rise up swords, surely one of their friends got bored

He was snitching to  edumacation that’s how he talks cause his head back sore

I’m the king of their land no myth, I’ve been running man out of multiple spots

They all freeze when they see my face cause their gang swings, but it’s not pebbles and dots

(And then) and then, his face got buss and his missus cried and I asked her why

So here’s some good information: dump that bitch cause she just won’t ride

No, I ain’t a violent guy, but I love how we bullying them

I got all their olders begging for peace and some friends on the ends

Somebody’s telling a fib, let me tell some facts:

We done numerous bait-face bootings, not sure if we’ll make it back

But, that’s how it gets round us - we’re coming from more than broken homes

And, bro bro too tapped he said he can hear Satan in his dome

More time I’m the one that did it

Who’s the yute?

Bro I don’t know so ching it

On the m-way like fucking bill it

I don’t like them they make me livid

And I wanted to get him again, sort of like the last time I got him before

But bro said it’s more than an angle, so this time leave him dead on the floor

Mandem live O riding birds for this fucking beef with these fucking neeks

And now they want to cause some problems like I ain’t done it just bro and me

Just bro and me

They should call us Barry and Paul

Cause we’re brothers until we die, and we’re chuckling when we step with this tool

[Verse 2]

Ok, ok, you got some scores but that don’t work:

I really don’t like you man, and you hate me too, so come do dirt

But I’m betting they won’t find me, cause out of your mouth it’s fibs, ok?

And if I see you or him, then sorry but I’m doing what brodie says

Someone got cheffed, someone got robbed, someone got slapped

You think you can scratch on gang, and chill like the gang ain’t scratching back?

(Scratch mixed it)

If we grab him, do him

Bro wants this pole to go right through him

I feel sick so now it’s ruined, their team’s screwed if we do this human

**** got boxed by me when he came too short with his mummy’s tick

**** will soon be with his family, we’re trying to find him like - where’s the prick?

**** please stop blessing the beef

I ain’t settling nothing with them - I want you (dead) like shit on the street. (Finish him!)

Urgh, X is a nonce, ponce, broke, tramp, bitch

And Gucci’s lost, smoking dots and talking shit

(Yuck) These are the olders you live by

The banter of it comes so rich

I still make man do toes on tens, I ain’t talking sliders bitch