Lyrics

(HARGO Production) Yo, yo (grr, baow), yo '017 went jail, '018 went jail, '019 went jail Plus this year aswell went jail, fuckin' hell '017 got bail, '018 got bail, '019 went jail '020 went Old Bail', man bust those cases well Ask Dookie why he poked me I try poke him but the shank never went in (grr, baow, baow) It started bendin', I got me a next ting Come on then, let's go fencin' (baow, baow, baow) I got poked but I poked up shh (uh) I swing my shank, I ain't throwin' no punch (woosh) On the phone to Hunch, just heard the door bust I think they're doin' spins at lunch I'm in the Marsh, no football pitch (bluu, bluu) Try violate, I got my jail shank from Diggs (bluuwuu) I got a drop, there's a opp near the wing No Ella Mai ting, all the guys took a trip (hoodie-hoo) Bando's T-T, get's dished Let it lock, then watch the excess get rinsed There's latex and we leave no prints (yo, yo, look) I'm in luck with this rock, made the trap house stink On the roads, my mash was a handgun (brr, brr) On the wing, my mash was a Samsung (bop) On the free's, no vest but they score, Iniesta (bop) Three sheets gone, what a mad run (woosh) Skin out your pum-pum like Spice When the free prints come through the door, I'm nice (mm-hm) My cellmate just went free flow And left me on my own so I crashed off twice (bluuwuu) I'm pissed cah the spin boys on the wing, paranoia Spend two days in the week with my lawyer (bluu, bluu) There's a smart phone and a Zanco On the landing with my boy, I'm like Neuer (grab him, grab him) Got my chef on the wing, cook my tuna with soya (yeah) My Mali bredrin on the wing got me screamin' out "Wariya, wairya" (brr, brr, brr, brr-brr) I'm a warrior, samurai ting when I bop 'round Pop smoke 'fore I pop down, I was blowin' trees on lockdown Had to pattern up weed so the crops get chop down (grr) There's a mix of both in the rino Light or the B in the T, that's gone now (baow, baow, baow) Was gyallie on me, now a fed'er on me for a shit VD, I'm gone now There's a M off my chest, I'm home now (uh) Bro just called me a jail cat, fuckin' hell man felt that ID cards go fast, man sell that (ahh) Real .39, stamp suttin', bro mail that (bluuwuu) Got spun, too much cat's at my cell flat (bluu, bluu) Pop weren't good for me, my next door held that (bluuwuu) One in each hand and I'll swing with my left Wet chest 'cause the right one dealt that (I got him down) I'm fresh, back, and I'm better (I am), so who's being put on a sweater? If I slap this dotty and hit my target, I still have one extra (bluuwuu) Make bine fly out the .9, spill some Heinz if I can't catch up How many yutes been cheffed up? (Yeah) That's multiple stab wounds dressed up (hoodie-hoo) '017 went jail, '018 went jail, '019 went jail Plus this year aswell went jail, fuckin' hell '017 got bail, '018 got bail, '019 went jail '020 went Old Bail', man bust those cases well
Writer(s): Harry Charles Gough, Rhys Herbert, Daniel Lena Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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