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tunde (uk) - mad about bars 2 lyrics

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[intro]
(you play too much)

[verse]
got the feds watching so we can’t even post the crib
but that’s the life we live
and if i died right now, i ain’t even got pictures with the people who i was closest with
but that’s the code of the mob so make a toast to this
yak boys raise a glass of the henny
and all my stoners just smoke a spliff
i love hitters with [?] strapped up while’ they ghost the whip, while’ they ghost the whip
came up and put man in position from the kitchen
how you gonna snake me, leavе it a few years and try play the victim
that’s why i fеlt no way when they l!cked him
you can get iced over cake like kipling
or you can get sliced in your face, now it’s dripping
i’ve lost bros to the pen and cemetery’s
tryna be rich with friends and not broke with enemies
my teams full of dogs and we the loyalist pedigree’s
drop a mission, they don’t give a f+ck about felonies
strikers that’ll shoot it from a spot like a penalty
sick in the head, not well, looking for remedies
moving like the rolling 60’s in the seventy’s
moving like the rolling 60’s in the seventy’s
in my teens all i knew is shot the dark and count it
i was famous and paid before rap so i ain’t really assed about it
other rappers claim the same thing, i highly doubt it
calm, collective and humble but slyly bout’ it
raised on estates so i’m streetwise, plus on top of that i’ve got the brains
i could have a mill and still sleep on the couch, me and you are not the same
been through it all, now i’m ready for anything
t’s been through lots of pain
used to have nout’ but now i’ve got everything
thank god i copped the cane
remember days up and down, pebbling heroin
p+ssed wet cause’ i still shot in the rain
remember old days, trapping in old cars
slap the headlights and make it turn on the [?]
them man are snakes, they can’t be on the winning team
f+cked up, should’ve washed them t++th like listerine
now i’m in the dock, suited up like mr bean
anyone sat up on the fence best pick a team
my youngers are addicted to the smoke like nicotine
the plug said ‘f+ck a tp, what’s your boat size?’
my bricks have got their own home, living better than most guys
snow bunnies in the penthouse, sniffing up coke lines
stack my paper cause’ i’m never going back to them broke times
food gets ran back if it ain’t coming in power
i see demons when i close my eyes in the shower
online 24’7, we make racks by the hour
the main aims stack it sky+high just like a tower
most these artists are actors, why they all telling lies?
under pressure in the jailhouse, getting terrorized
flying down to wigan for some chips cause’ i’m selling pies
listening to bxb, the trap will be televised
now my jewellery s+x+yellow gold like mr t
i had a cat from italy and he used to sniff the b
why he never smoked it and pinned it, it’s a mystery
said he’s drowning sorrows for a body back in sicily
tag a brick of stone, now i gotta re+rock the dust
move more careful than usual, who can i trust?
only around for the bread, they move like the crust
thank god the things are brand+new, we ain’t buying no rust
strictly straight drop for the lines, we don’t deal with the re+rock
back in the day the olders had a mp5 and a mac
i guess things don’t change on the c+block
ten racks on a wap like a loadout drop when we heat cop
when we heat cop, when we heat cop, when we heat cop
ten racks on a wap when we heat cop



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