big h – crime scene lyrics
[verse 1: big h]
i tour any ends, strawberry benz
n-ggas getting happy, we were never friends
i go anywhere, lose weight
have cats doing cartwheels, you move late
any funny business, bum bye bye
‘dem little idiots, might even try
walk with the strap, wanna know why?
don’t want to catch us, scratch out my eye
can’t use me cah i’m not a tool
can’t kick me cah i’m not a ball
wagwan, wagwan, everyone cool
can’t diss me, nah nah not at all
i go psycho skitz, switchknife cut them to bits
man want to talk about h’s hits
blade, pablo, man move bricks
if the truth gets told, they act cool but they ain’t cold
can’t see them, like they ain’t on road
i don’t want to hear about the stuff they sold
can’t eat me in a move
you mad, henchman? manna eat food
i go mad, everyone screwed
one big machine gun, no one move
did you make that stuff (truss)?
look like you take that stuff (truss)
you lot hate that stuff
can’t diss me cah you’re on stuff
[verse 2: blade brown]
yeah
cuttin’ through the ends in a new motor
switched up the light, yeah i got a new rock
strap the worker with a package and a [?]
now you sealing all the dots up with a lighter
just like to send a shout out to my lifers
appeal on the settings, let’s hope they give them something lighter
rolling with a shooter, that’s a striker
in other words a little g’s upon [?]
yeah, this rap sh-t’s too easy brother
just phoned the link and told him that i need another (let’s go)
yeah, he ain’t a greedy brother
go hard and break breddas, like we need each other
no h0m-, they say the buj makes the fiends go slow-mo
tell him that’s a no-no
mixtape buss, no promo
lines still bangin’, but keep ’em on the low low
[verse 3: paper pabs]
how you gonna hate on us?
got a lot of talk, i call them high performance cars (zing)
alex ferguson, my players always smacking goals
wrapping os, f-ck around and we’ll be cracking skulls
in the trap for years, feeling like i never leave
b-tches, p-ssies, poison, they should never breed
hooker hoes coming to my booking shows
reading revelations and the book of joel (yeah)
armani shades, haze be my aftershave
i parked the grub and told the judge that i’ll behave
giving brown in the car with the windows down
magistrates simple, tricky when you’re in the crown
rather peak, i hardly sleep
say you robbing sh-t but you the type we call a thief
caught a case and realised i weren’t stacking properly
rap’s a hobby, usually with the crack and bobby
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