Let's just keep this ting moving
I've been listening
**** hating on Giggs so they're dissing him
But fuck that, ain't nothing new
'Cause if I see him with my strap, I show him discipline
Big straps coming pissing in
Like the rain, pap pap, you'll be missing him
Hit his brain, bap bap, feel the pain black MAC
Sitting in my hand when I twisted him
Subliminal shots
These **** rap about MACs, we be ringing them off
I give a fuck about tracks, keep singing your shots
'Cause when I catch up with ****, I'll be swinging my Glock
Fuck sitting the blocks, some living to rob
Up early trying to get that little grizzling gwop
Cut and splitting the bobs, and splitting the doves
So you think I give a shit what bitches spit in their blogs
My **** in the bing in the block
My **** chilling there, 'cause them **** sing in the dock
And **** been in there, so I try and fling them some gwop
I ain't a millionaire, but I try and give what I got
And **** can't moan, 'cause it ain't like I forgot
When I was up in there, nobody was giving me squat
It ain't every day you get a **** opening shots
I lodged Bigos, 'cause he wasn't cutting the cloth
**** chat shit, they ain't any strap earners
Ask Young Snap, handed him the fat burger
**** act like they're gonna take the act further
Like it or not, we're creating mass murder
Fuck a rap song, ****, I'm a back burner
This is **** knew me way before I rapped Murder
Fuck your batch prick, push your little hat further
Act on that shit, ****, I'm a hat curver
And **** stab rocks
Yeah, the streets talking, get the MAC shots
My **** ain't sleeping, they got the MAC cocked
One silly little slip, get your back popped
Talking 'bout Tiny Boost 'cause he's the in ting
Talk about his big strap and the rinsing
Fuck that, ****, get your banger in sync
Fucking little tramps, get your swagger in sync
Real G, I got the Hackett jumper in pink
The chains links got the logo on it, bling bling
You heard the buzz, I know you thought it was a spring thing
But years later, Hollow's still the in thing
Don't compare me to **** 'cause I ain't hearing their raps
'Cause they ain't sharing big tings with **** tearing them straps
Couple yardman, Ghanaian and Nigerian cats
Looking at the AK, looking scary and that
My little brother Spen, squeezing on the serious strap
These **** just talk, tell me how serious is that
And my **** Knucks, that's a serious chap
Oaks, Killa Ki, and my **** Serious Snap
They're like fuck it Hollow no more
I've been going mad hard since '04
And **** know what the coat's for
Everybody's on the roads, there's a coke war
Winter time's what the bloody fur coat's for
What, the beat's done? Fuck it, let me go more
Fuck the industry, I opened up my own door
Now everybody's Giggs, I feel like it's a clone war
These **** talking all flizzy on the phone call
But they can't fuck with Wizzy and Z
Drop him in the tre pound, Knuckles brought the K round
Leave a **** laid out, drop him in the grave now
The second that we came out, money's on our brains now
Locking up the game now, fuck what **** say now

Writer(s): Nathaniel Thompson & Daniel Collins.