TRIPLE THREAT

M1onTheBeat
Ghosty
Likkledotz

She ask me why am I stressin', I'm tryna get some of my opps addresses
I'm really off-white, plus look in my closet and see I got lots of exes
I send out lots of texts
If you see a blooded Rambo and it's not mine, it's probably S's
Treys and Glocks is what I invest in

Yeah, I've been givin' her pipe, but I don't mind if she tells her friends, we're besties
Yeah, I bought her the shoes, she ain't got Instagram, and she's more than sexy
My rap career's promisin', but I'm still tryna leave that stretchin'
I'm still tryna leave that trendin', bro put that on a diamond pendant

I got five years on me, times two, get caught might give me a ten
I got number six on standby, but I rather give it to ten
I poked up-, he was hittin' the shop, if I see him I'll ching him again
If you hear me rap 'bout GLE, just know I ain't whippin' a Benz

Most of my friends are drillers and trappers, I ain't with all the chattin'
Phone clash, like do me a favor, clap him, make sure he's not standin'
Spa day with a booter, just done a bootin', but health is wealth
I just ran out of credit, but the food that I got is gonna sell itself

I just got in the booth, tell 'em the truth
Rolls-Royce Dawn, take off the roof
This bad B thick and melanin too (turn, turn, turn, told me turn)
Always tryna tell me take off my pooh
Six quid just to get me a boot, don't piss me off, I'll just get me a broom
Then go Hattons, let me link Housh, like bro, when you settin' the jewels?

All of these karats, it got me lookin' like the Christmas lights at Harrods
All of these handtings, I might need a bag of sweets like Tangfantastics (one)
The fans want me providin' bangers, opps want me providin' badness (badness)
Even though I went platinum, I might still try to give them both (both)
Feds still want me in HMP, why they still want to feed man oats?
I was in the bando batterin' fish, had this yardie ting tryna feed man goat (one)
And I'm still the Goat, bro got a sentence and I still don't vote

Uh, these twenty notes plastic, they still gon' fold
These opps wanna pull up to the top of the hill again
I see bro drill at them, could've been an M on the O like Gilligan (ba, ba, ba)
Come a long way from bitter wing
Done the wing pickyhead like Willian (one)
Gotta thank God for rap, could've been me full time in the gym again

They know where the thugs stay
But they don't wanna go down there like the bus lanes
Mash four, I'm a skengman, I do it for the four-door truck way
No bow and arrow, just zombie killers or smokin' barrels
I see what he's sayin' on TV, I see him and change the channel

This year spent a day date 40 on trainers, ask for the players (ask them)
Barrage of bullets, now it's all vacant, dots got new players
Back then I done with the handle wobblin', handle bruck
Ever had a GLE when it sprays, it sound like a Lambo' truck
Cullinan R with stars, feds wanna mark the car
If I see them man, of course I'll send it, I'll never put it drafts

Shotgun in the bushes, ever stepped out, gotta wipe off mud and grass (yuck)
Think we're playin' games, there's more than one in the car
Blast it, made me blink, don't get done tryna make it on made you think
Bigger Cuban, I'm changin' links
Can't fund no bricks, then I'm changin' links
Each one teach one, and takin' tips
You ain't on takin' risks
If it goes well, then we're changin' dings

M1onTheBeat
Ghosty
Likkledotz



Credits
Writer(s): Irving Adjei, Devonte Kasi Perkins Martin, Bradley Robert Moss, Mozis Prince Aduu, Christopher Lloyd Ellington, Cian Francis William Wright
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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