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kb (uk) - r.n.s. lyrics

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[verse 1 + kb]
it’s tunnel vision if i see the yout
if that .44 slapped, it’ll be him juiced
i don’t think that p+ssy knows who he’s speaking to
i’ll jump out on his block like peekaboo
i don’t care if he’s k!lled sh+t on some real sh+t
cah my next door got a body and he’s still a pr+ck
if you’re really in the game and you feel my sh+t
trigger finger itch, i can just about bill my spliff
i just burst out laughing when i heard the threats
if they touch lil blades, i’ll get him burst for next
what they know about screws than can search for tec’s?
know some mad cats that’ll do extra bird for ments
i ain’t loski but i’m loose with it
shot him in his back right after i made a truce with him
but you that’s just a metaphor
cause it really was his chest but say no more
you gotta squeeze it like toothpaste
that’s the pretty boy singing like bublé
i do my ting on foot like a shoelace
know a yout that got put to bed for that screwface
know i’m out beefing
on the train with a magazine like i was reading
thinking bout squeezing
blakenhurst b+wing, actually b spur
smartphone and a box of maoams, could’ve been worse
[verse 2 + shower malik]
hammer on me right now but you wouldn’t ever know
decorate a block for bro cah he wouldn’t ever go
negative phone calls, i don’t even wanna know
show so hands on cah my last runner slow
bando just full of snow, pyrex and cali pots
step with that hammer c+cked, makarov
drench you out your balmain’s and wet up your versace top
in a hard top getting top, drop offs i do a lot
bro doing up dark knight, he likes to shoot a lot
garlic bread doing loads, i don’t come round enough
i need my account nuff, pockets buff, good stuff
suedes on, napalm, fire water
that’s ray and his sister’s yout
three+two and that pistol’s blue
riding, they’re despicable
my works dem, they can never take from me
i used to hit sh+t, link doddos and bang zombies
.44 long with sh+lls like thumbs
fee fi fo fum, p+ssy suck your mum
n+ggas do the most till n+ggas get grabbed
n+ggas get grabbed everyday and that’s straight up facts
man ain’t taking my jewels, i ain’t built like that
i’ll lift your skirt up, you’ll get kilt like that
you ain’t hit man in his chest and watched him tilt like that
that ain’t make me real, it’s just real like that
ndo bandos jump like carnival
these bells weren’t made for a carnivore
your playgroup squabble, you don’t know the art of war
you’re hiding behind your ride
these bells go through car doors
i won’t glorify, i’m telling you how it is
they’re telling fibs, i drink water and i get these jibs
i’m a hitter, still well known
kb just shouted me on the jail phone



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