Hold On

Hold on tight to what you own, when there's people like me was outside your door Hold on tight to what you own, when there's people like me was outside your home Step in the ring, blaze tracks, slay bait twats Make that train, way back, spread an 8-track Spitting out all kind of rhyme in a way that Make any rapper wanna stop with the late chat Nobody knows a nigga looking to bring back You couldn't even rock a toe with a play back Foreign beggar fam over run as I take that Rap Montana, write my name by the train tracks Kit Kat rappers get bucked and bitch slapped Crack black eye, some wanna flay flic-flac? Sit back, cotch, chit chatter, where the tick at? Charge next man £10 for a Tic Tac Spit down lyric quick fast with ma sick chat, Ship-wrecked rappers get bucked with a big bat Kill any mini-man dick with a shit gat Spill a man's guts with the face of a pick-axe Who coming on a bit gotta get a lick shot? Quick fix, bitch, then did a bit of crack rock Red-hot rapper, nigga knock about his spit rah Lock up any amatuer that wanna come shit talk Rub-a-dub mug get dumped in a trunk Armed with a mic and a big bag of punk Jump up, run amock, I never come Never humm, stand up, fuck 'em up from to the back to the front From my earliest pillaging and scheming with mad men Bad men all the way from there and to Camden Challenging any man dem who wanna step on a track And if he's still talkin' shit i get ready to lamp him Big bad rappers get slapped up in tandem Acting like dons when they're openly rampant Jump up in the back of the car like he was strapped in None of us panic, here I come, with my fat pen X 2 Blud, I ain't trying to prove nothin' move somethin' Too many man are left dead for nothing Get battered up, whacked up, splurt for nothing Beat down, hurt, or left murked for nothing blad But thats just how tings gwannin When a man said hes a bad man from morning Now wait till Sunday morning, His fams in church dressed in black; mourning Nobody had a chance to warn him 'Cause he had just been on stage performing And certain girl-dem had started to swarm him After that just sounds quite alarming One brother said your a chief, And yes you can Tell that im looking beef Coz i live around all of the pressure on the streets But I never knew gunmen and stress relief Bust one in your belly n' Bust one in your teeth Bringin' heap on anyone I'm looking to eat Because any idiot could have drawn the gun back Lick out the barrel and make the gun clap Me I just step to the mic and I run chat Give them the eyeshot then return with a comeback Mr Vulga asked me to guest track Instead of me telling the man dem to get flat The manor that I'm living in, yes I rep that Anything I want in life yes I get that Disrespect me, get disrespect back Are you really from the ends blad? Forget that Are you really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, from the ends blad? Forget that Are you really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, really, from the ends blad? Forget that