[Intro]
Ahh
WAVE
Oi, Filthy Gears
Oi, yo
Dem boy-
Dem boy nuh ready for the ting, fam
What you saying?
What, special?
Even with a special for the specialer, yeah?
You gotta go to the specialer
You get me?
(Filthy Gears)
[Verse 1]
Yeah, savage
This bar that I've got does damage
Going in H A M, man call it hammage
Could've been you if you had that talent
This one is a madders
You don't wanna beef me, nah, you're a salad
Gonna be a crack to the head if I grab it
I get the pussy, it's pussy palace
Birdman internal
Dixon can't go commercial
About a cat, assault man with a furball
I came to shell, you'll feel them turtles
WAVE
Can't take man for Steve Urkel
Turn Murkle Man and just murkle
Incredible Hulk, yeah, I smoke that herbal
You can't remix the remixer
It's not Ten to you, G, it's mister
Head get mangled and face get injure
It's that boy, that blacked out ninja
You've gots it but you've never got Rizla
Yeah, I'm the king of the jungle, Simba
I think "shit" when I see your picture
I think "why?" when I see your Insta
Thought you could jump on a set like X
This new bar that I've got will X
Man out the game, so don't get vexed
Talking the truth like Malcolm X
She was your wifey and now she's your ex
Cause you didn't beat, man get X
Can't Scrufizzer cause a man get Ghetts
If you didn't know, that's an indirect
[Chorus]
Murder she wrote
My man hung himself with his own rope
My man's washed but he ain't got soap
Blacked-out gloves when I go for the pulp
It's not a Facebook poke
This one's gonna leave a big hole
Taking time when we take your soul
Shelling down everywhere, man better know
Murder she wrote
My man hung himself with his own rope
My man's washed but he ain't got soap
Blacked-out gloves when I go for the pulp
It's not a Facebook poke
This one's gonna leave a big hole
Taking time when we take your soul
Shelling down everywhere, man better know
[Verse 2]
Ergh
I used to say that everyday
Fully gassed up when I heard that sound
Thought to myself "that's fucking wave"
When I said that, nobody ain't safe
That's why I've gotta shout MIK
It's the Ghost Writer alive in the flesh
Too fucking blessed, that's why I don't pray
So many shells that the floor is cray
Blood on the tree looking like Kool-Aid
Talking my name? Don't throw no shade
That's why you're on a funny man ting just like Damon Wayne's
This could end in two ways
Three of them comes? Then I'll make three graves
Man ah man got the big ting in case
You wanna jump in the middle and skank, you gay
WAVE, loose
Dixon's going on loose
Call for the backup and call for the troops
Indirect but I'm coming for you
WAVE
Did you hear? I'm coming for you
Man better know it's not a likkle man crew
Don't come to the set with your likkle man boots
Fucking hell
Why would I fuck your girl when I can fuck the world?
Man have got bags for sale
Big boy twos that fucking smell
Skengs ain't up for sale
Giving them Ls and shells
Send man way down the road, wells
[Chorus]
Murder she wrote
My man hung himself with his own rope
My man's washed but he ain't got soap
Blacked-out gloves when I go for the pulp
It's not a Facebook poke
This one's gonna leave a big hole
Taking time when we take your soul
Shelling down everywhere, man better know
Murder she wrote
My man hung himself with his own rope
My man's washed but he ain't got soap
Blacked-out gloves when I go for the pulp
It's not a Facebook poke
This one's gonna leave a big hole
Taking time when we take your soul
Shelling down everywhere, man better know