9er Ting (feat. Unknown T)

More time it's a Niner 'ting This shit's 'ments! Homerton B Summertime gets cold like winter And when gyal take wood from the back she can feel this splinter For this D she can ride like Digga Bro, tried to glide in an O-shaped dinger Don't run if you see 'dat chinger Cah I can hear shakes in the back of my head Like bruck up this nigga Don't beef or just run from this trigger In the trap and slang up them baggies Bandits look happy Phone up L Trappo, he way too trappy Slap it in cabbies or make that Dunga in alleys In the studio smoking on Cali What's this dusty 'ting you call ammi? Fuck-off Sammy, ride out to London Fields with a bally I'm still tryna do it in fields with the mop (you know) I'm still tryna do it like Shegz Two flicks in my hand; let's see who bleeds (let's bet!) Back 'dem blades, put a dag in them, like the heath We come with shanks, they breeze The bells for the waps gon' show man speed (bow!) 9-Gang we ain't squashing beef You're all involved One way this 'ting gets solved (bow!) That's exit holes, cheffed or smoked Either all won't make it home (no way) Last time shooting I hit that post Reckon I'll be better now like Malone (I know it) Any time that we step, no phones And if we're under arrest then it's 'cause 9 zone; can't run through hair like a comb OT blinging, man up and get that bread The beef gets hot round here Watch the rambo drop to my leg Cah I got beef with grown-ass men (all of them!) You can talk on Snap and provoke One wrong move and you will get poked Deadpool mask make 'em run like Bolt And this beef is real, it ain't a joke More time we don't stunt on tracks Oh shit, what happened to Asc? Oh shit, what happened to Lattz? We don't talk, bro go do the maths I can see evolution on road We used to be bros, now he's involved He's on man, but dis one's timid; I'm still on both I'm still on both, that's either When this 'ting sneeze you can get more than a flu or fever (bow!) Catch this shot like a keeper Act wrong, you can feel this beater Beg man try cut thru the Nine Hold that ching to the neck, make him scream like Bieber Beg–beg man try cut through the bits, get your car smashed or jacked like– Tried to walk home with his bitch We were on slip that day, no shivs in the whip I'm in the back behind tints, I'm baked (I'm baking) Parked up in the opp estate, waiting for a paigon to pass this way Grip last trip, now bro wants to test his aim One blast this gauge (bow!) I do it for the guy's that's passed away 'Dem boys gotta feel my pain Free all my mates and the opps that's caged (free 'em) Get a 'round broad day for the squad (you know) Me, Wavey, Mazza and Dach; Man do it in 4's like quad (that's four) This mop ain't sneezing snot (it aint Let's go upsuh and provide that bulk Fuck, the pack look thicker than oak Gyal know me, I'm the man on road Good gyal but for me, she's a hoe Good gyal but for me, she's a hoe Flip the pack of the weed with the snow Hit a rack and I'm splitting with bro Then, back to the quid on the low Look, ten-toe skidding in fours Rambo swing tryna ching with force He got cheffed tryna child-lock doors Gang soon gon' turn man corpse Swing them shanks but we swing them too You know 'bout the 9er crew Counter-attacking, of course we do Pull up on–, like peek-a-boo Step with mates If bait, change plates So the jakes don't find this car Slap this wap, tryna wreck his chest Bath in pet then I find my yard Yutes on half, you bruck and they cut All now they can't find no heart Young G wan' make P so he's gone OT I just helped him find his graft And that girl dead, she got no breast She's hitting the gym tryna find her ass K and I Trap; weed or crack A-to-B I'm tryna find my class I take two pulls and there's smoke Give it to bro, that's puff-puff-pass Roll up and bun, straight in that bud when the 'ting gets rassed