I Used To (feat. Stickz)

Nine fuckin' lives I stand cool now, you need to chill out and get myself right This what I always do, I always try to come out, help the man, and do this, do that In that time, when I'm in, I get hot I ain't gon' jail, fuck that, that's dead I wanna live I wanna live, I wanna see life All my twenties up in jail, fam Imagine all my twenties, I was in jail I used to waste time on opps I use to rise up that .9 or Glock I circle man's block and beat off shots I'm aimin' on-point, yeah, broski got touched He's like, "Sneakbo's a real G though, innit?" Why you think that? 'Cause he's real, man Leka Beats I used to waste time on opps I use to rise up that .9 or Glock I circle man's block and beat off shots I'm aimin' on-point, your broski got touched I used to spend time in cunch I'm in the trap house tryna flip that grub I got my mask on tryna rob that plug I tek weh man's cash and tek weh man's stuff I lacked and got stabbed by opps My broski stepped out and turnt man off They talk but they ain't on job Fam when the G's ride, leave them man rubbed Give out the smoke, bust man's gun Bring out the smoke, somebody gon' get bun I love to see them man run I love to see man try run and get tun I used to waste time in jail I used to sit back and pray for bail I used to not write no girls I used to bust heads with friends in cells I used to love road so much I'm on the block, yeah, 'til the sun came up The beef was on, K got his gun game up The feds were on man, couple man still gone I used to waste time on opps I use to rise up that .9 or Glock I circle man's block and beat off shots I'm aimin' on-point, your broski got touched I used to spend time in cunch I'm in the trap house tryna flip that grub I got my mask on tryna rob that plug I tek weh man's cash and tek weh man's stuff Point me to the drama Yes, I'm the one move Gully and Gaza In the drill ting, I am the master King or the father, whatever you rather Didn't get my man I was after Then I came right back 'round like karma I'll put my man through trauma He's talkin' bare 'til I spill man's lager He's due for a slaughter Said he moves weight but the's still on a quarter I'll leave my man in the corner Now he's like weed from California I was in Kent, I was in Bristol Dishin' out dirty dubs and crystal Show you a trick, switch hands with a pistol Got a revolver, resolvin' the issue It's a sad thing See man wounded bad from a hand ting Give him the five up down when I'm shankin' This ain't a rampin' shop for your rampin' The three-door GB's crampin' We do drills, drops and campin' Butter man's toast, I don't know 'bout jammin' I'm there with Shannon, it's nothin' but slammin' Why she wanna ride it As soon as I open my eyelids? And this bad B come like a ding-dong Bit rusty and got some mileage Yeah, I'm done with the talkin' If you want beef, go and put some heart in Yeah, the opps are jarrin' They soon catch chilli con carnin' I used to waste time on opps I use to rise up that .9 or Glock I circle man's block and beat off shots I'm aimin' on-point, your broski got touched I used to spend time in cunch I'm in the trap house tryna flip that grub I got my mask on tryna rob that plug I tek weh man's cash and tek weh man's stuff I used to waste time on opps I use to rise up that .9 or Glock I circle man's block and beat off shots I'm aimin' on-point, your broski got touched I used to spend time in cunch I'm in the trap house tryna flip that grub I got my mask on tryna rob that plug I tek weh man's cash and tek weh man's stuff I'm like "yeah, the old G's innit" and then yeah But think about it though, Sneakbo got far though, innit Comin' out of the hood, innit, I'm like come on, innit He's like, he's like, "Sneakbo's a real G though, innit" I'm like, I'm like, "Why you think that?" 'Cause he's real man, you can't say "why do you think that?" Feel me? 'Cause it's like, he's real innit Come on, like obviously he's done a lot of shit from comin' up Brixton, you feel me? He's what establishes us out there