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juke (lab tv) - ukus bar session lyrics

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[intro]

what’s happenin, it’s juke
big up aystar for getting me on this one innit, yeah
ukus tv

[verse 1]

ay laaaa….you’ll get battered like kf
claim beef jukey gets back on the kx
whack on the latex, hands on no safe s+x
trust lad your mates dead, two f+cks if you take steds
before you’re sleeping with the bugs i’ll make you lay eggs
little maggots they be chatting that they blaze tecs
chatting stabbers lad you f+ggots wouldn’t take necks
f+ck this rapping i be clapping off the gauge next
when i get a man, you know my fam are like “jay’s vexed”
get the shotty banging at your gang and leave your face wrecked
i’ve got the haze bagged up, and the day’s set
little divvies getting lippy with the same threats
tell a sket to stop begging it…
girl i know you want the wood but trust me love you’re not gettin it
when i’m in the stude you know the tune i drops devilish
and if i’m in the mood you little dudes will start legging it
right hand will break jaws
try jack my graft up don’t mind if i break yours
cos i’m rolling with the 9, if i take doors
die before i snitch do the time if you break laws
so don’t be chattin that you’re game with me
you better know that muzzleflash are f+cking stacking up major p
remember when i only had enough to get me a to b
i’m hopping off katie then i f+cking jump on amy+lee
lad i’m tapped i wouldn’t hesitate to waste a g
kids are getting pasted if they’re latent with my hazy key
chat he doesn’t smoke it but i know he does + blatantly
ask me why i’m gangster lad i’ll tell you it’s the way to be
you know this kid, cuttin out the middleman
try, like, don’t pay, jumping out a little van
big .45 and i’m aiming at your liver fam
wasn’t gonna pop the kid until the f+cking divvy ran
you chattin packing dough but getting gobbles off a smelly
lad i wouldn’t let a skatty l!ck the bottom of my welly
when i grab this little rat i’ll make him wobble like he’s jelly
wouldn’t ever hesitate to clap a hollow at your belly
bang, bang + next thing i’m on the telly
jukey’s f+cking kicking back a spliff and coffee in the deli
divvies chattin that they’re packin
trust me kid they’re nothin heavy
shouldn’t ever worry if you know you got a shotty buried
you think you’re straight ride with your rig+out
got a couple man who are doing life in the big house
wanna see the size of the .9 that i whip out
i put it to your mind watch your spine f+cking rip out
you’re chatting game + pure lies + you’re a sh+thouse
i’ve got pure guys, .45s and the pit out
don’t mind if you hide, i’ll get my man to sit out
few quid, on your wig, and the ditch, we will dig out
so you’re chattin that you’re stacking p bro?
we straight to poppin leave you frothin like a cappuccino
i put the profit in my pocket ain’t no jackin me though
ain’t no stoppin when i’m jocking in the rapid evo
a bag of lemo and you’re chattin that you’re al pacino
i stab your head up with a pen, joe pesci out casino
this birds poppin so i’m hopping in the cafe nero
don’t try and blag it if your bank account is chatting zero
[outro]

bang
back on it
3 in a day



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