Hitting marks, testing my aim
Just in my brain, it feels like they're pressing my vein
I'm kind of pissed like I'm letting the game
Get the best of me, but not the rest of me, it's better I change
It's like things get worse and get in the way
I hit the strip and I better my cane
Are you getting my pain? **** hate and start wrecking my name
It's not my fault that we sell it the same
But we're all selling the beige, I've adapted or I've get up and change
I love money so it's better I gain
I ain't getting the range, but if I do, I'll be letting it rain
Champagne ****, wetting the face
You've been guessing for days, they call me CAPO, fam, remember the face
If not, fam, remember the name
I've been repping since day, still flagging Peckham, you might have to grab the semi
Most **** acting ready, they ain't ready for shit
**** know KK's real, got the German nine with the stainless steel
Young Hugh Hefner, I'm famous, kill
The waviest sour, I got a wavy grill
Badman on the block from day, Hollowman pass me the black AK
Got the lowdown, I'ma let it spray
I ain't gonna stop, fam, I'm still KK
Filling up my stack, fly up to OT, build me a trap
Fuck one line, I'm a hit up the map
Hit the TC then I build me a trap
Switching the flows, who said that? Nobody knows
Until you top Redline Road, you will get sprayed like hose
Hunting with the big teeth, leave a ****'s chest looking like minced beef
It was about Wednesday in the midweek, the **** let off a couple shots but it missed me
MAC-10 looks grizzly, flinging round shots like a Frisbee
I got the whole game smashed, **** dig me
You get sprayed in the back when the Mizzy be
Hollowman on a Swiss beat, run up on a **** with the strap and let the fizz be
Gully motherfucker from the trap
It's been six weeks since that ****'s got his money up, cause the strip's beef
Roll up on a strip in the big V, real old-school G and you big league
Shit's risky, I got a strap 'cause these **** wanna pitch me
Your soldier to a boss, I'm a boss to a source
You could be older or bolder, man's blind you over
Daughter adds some **** shop before I rub the revolver
Bra-couple at your collarbone and at your shoulder
Listen, it's a madness, grab and bang shit
Or hit the fucking strip, bang and slang shit
Like fam, no time for a time-waster
Big spliff when I'm counting up my paper
Tell a bitch, I'll be back, I'll be round later
Calm raising up crime with the crime raisers
I'm that hard, dog, that the deaf can hear me talk
And the blind can see me shine bright like Canary Wharf
But to tell the truth, brother, they felt the pain was built
We ain't getting stopped, we're getting raided and sent to jail
No, what it is, before you open up your lips
Cut your hair more bangs than November the 5th
Let the beat go so I can let the streets know
That I'm hungry, I'm grinding to see dough
And I'm riding or die when my heat blow
My shop to mini-cats, I don't keep the beef low
I don't give a fuck about the gully or the guard
Straight out of Peckham where my **** go hard
No respect for the weak and the **** with no heart
So don't start, you're rolling with dogs that don't bark
Keep them little mutts on a leash
This is that Black Gang Ridah SN1 beast
Spare no one, **** know what the team is
Lockdown for sticks where the rest of my G's is
**** think they're real 'til I tear them to pieces
You're new to the game, I live this and breathe it
Twisted up cheese bitch, don't get me pissed
Roll up on your strip and leave you beneath

Writer(s): Nathaniel Thompson & Daniel Collins.