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(That's Chucks) Thought it was go time Like from the jump (Emz Beats) I link T on my just rap, you can blow shit Still think I'm Boston George on my blow shit My boy's in a SVR, but he stole it I flew past with my wap, told him hold it Man keeps talkin' my name, they keep trollin' When they're more pussy than The pussyoles they roll with Can't be pillow talkin' in these streets I disown him (yo) Can't be talkin' about me(check) I kick door in I link P on my jack jones in the morning He was one up too 'cause we're Staunch and they know this My boys in a SRT, he didn't rent it Took chase from the black bonnet and he bent it I flew past the back of the estate To go and pick him up I sent Cappy round there and told him Go and lift him up 'Cause man keep chattin' my name They keep cappin' it But one, so now I keep it I've been buying watches and guns, that's insurance Runnin' this for ten years runnin' that's endurance I ain't worried 'bout nobody, they're all jokes Like I ain't been steppin' With hammers and big boarers Standin' on strip corners, scammers and extorters Came too far to be standing with informers Talk 'bout the money And then it just gets awkward Talk 'bout the duppies (yo) And then it just gets awkward again I've been buying crypto and pounds, that's investing Buyin' great call and cane, this ain't wrestling Big dogs, stepped on the steppers when we stepped in Get money out of houses and lofts, it's interesting I've been rollin' round with some farmer But they ain't got shotties Know some man that turned into nitties Because they got bodies Growin' like we're in the cartel But we don't crop poppies Clippin' off the noses of dog, call it chopped rotties For the judge and the jury, this is entertainment You can't be lockin' up rappers for your entertainment I paid tax three years, never missed a payment I'm from the mud, somehow I'm sophisticated Might fly to a gallery and grip a painting Used to sleep on floors, I don't need persuading Now mummy got a CC purse with suede in But bitch, I'd rather be rich than famous 'Cause bitch, I'd rather be rich than famous Got stitched by the pigs and it hit the papers Snitch boys in the ends, gotta ditch the haters All rats must die with a suit from Slaters Have you straight on the wing screamin' free the strikers Mornin' soc' on the yard, burpees with lifers Fifty pound for a bug head, you should see the prices If you've never hit the block, then you ain't seen a crisis