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Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
slowthai
slowthai
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
slowthai
slowthai
Songwriter
Anish Bhatt
Anish Bhatt
Songwriter
Samuel Castillano
Samuel Castillano
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Anish Bhatt
Anish Bhatt
Producer
Earbuds
Earbuds
Producer
Kwes Darko
Kwes Darko
Mastering Engineer
Samuel Castillano
Samuel Castillano
Producer

Lyrics

Drug dealer I wear Nike, not Fila Lean like Tower Pisa, I smile like Mona Lisa I've had enough of 36 shots, 72 had to double up Mainstream tunes, couldn't make one That was mathematics for the class clown dunce ABC's I wanted Q's Get a B, make 2 Crime Watch, mandem face on news Directs spamming, pay me dues Greed for money, gas like juice Take it lightly, it's just food Certain man haffi kill off the mood Come like Christmas, why be Scrooge? On a serious note, I joke And it's serious blow I smoke Jump on a beat like a frog off a boat Take a leap, just float Take a leaf out my book, I know Tried to believe them, lost all hope I just wanna chill, go home Jump on my push-bike and I zone Ring ring ring, answer my phone Getting sick of my own ringtone Pedal on shit so long People need to go, grow a backbone I'm bad to the bone, yeah, biddididi And I mash up the flow, getting silly widdit Yeah, timid never know I put my spirit in it Real in the zone like It's T None of me sounds like them, chief I put the T in 10, deep More melodies than doe Dun' know what you dun' know, it's T I put the T in trend, me About to run something, scene About to don this ting, 'ow ya mean? Come through the fog, I'm king on the road Digging for gold Run from the boy, them hood on the low Switch off my phone, ain't going home Locked in a box, stuck in a zone Zone out again, sit and reflect Dodging the pen like a dog in a yard So I ain't going yard, walk in the dark Walk in the park, I ain't playing no Giggs Bunning a blem, chill doing trips Ten outta ten, tell them again Blunt to the sky, live on a high Feed the supply to all the mandem Slowthai lagging, body bagging a witch Steady slanging that talisman shit I'm a G, yes Draw for the knife and the CS Bally on tight, F the BS, PS Come around here, leave teeth-less Jesus couldn't save this yute Don't pray to him, he ain't saving you Hate me, you must hate the truth Box your chin and make you change your tune If it's gonna get physical Slyly, I'm gonna bring in a tool Try me, you could get slumped in two One bang, two bang, smoked in a zoot If it's gonna get physical Slyly, I'm gonna bring in a tool Try me, you could get slumped in two One bang, two bang, smoked in a zoot Rrrrah! And the farmers are coming Pitchforks sharp and they runnin', runnin' Mhahahaha
Writer(s): Samuel Lee Castillano, Tyron Kaymone Frampton, Anish Sunil Bhatt Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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