Ah
Free my **** Tiny Boost, yeah
Free Carlton
Jim Jones
Young Spen
Tiny
You saw what I'm saying? Freedom's a must
SN1 Productions
Yeah, I'm Pecknam dog like yellow brick and post
North Peckham estate all the way up to Sumner
I'll let it blow when it's under my jumper
So if you snitch you can't tell the pigs how I burn ya
I'm moving 'round with more metal than a junkyard
And when the gun blasts, I'm airing out your lungs, dog
I got a team full of bangers, no dump cards
I come 'round and get it cracking with the guns out
You get covered in dirt like a mudguard
I let the MAC-10 splat, that's a bloodbath
Better run fast when I let the slugs blast
Who the fuck said that I don't come hard?
You know them real Gs run with me
Young Butch, Hollowman and my dog gonna leave
Banana clip in the stick, call it monkey business
Fuck a price on your head, you get bumped for free
I fill Ozies and bring back a bunch of Ps
I bust bases and cases, ****, fuck the Ds
I'll open up your ribcage when I bust machine, bust
Dash your body flying up the street
Bag of nerds in your bum, fam, bunch of neeks
I'll break 'em all down like buds of trees
Pecknam, Black Gang, we run the street
You motherfuckers getting burnt when I dump my heat
Man move so low when I roll in your posse
Masked up, you won't even know who toasted your posse
Trying to get dough from the dough in the lobby
And we got **** losing stones in the lobby
So don't slip and don't move sloppy when I catch that little creep
I'ma throw him in my property
And if I'm holding a shotty, I bang it and let it push the ghost out your body
Keep your lips closed until the clips have to move on their tiptoes
'Cause we grip chrome, shoot, let the slips go
Man will come around and take the roof off of his dome
And if you think that the greaze isn't that
Man will ride 'round on space cruisers, speedys and cabs
And you'll be leaking if I deep up his back
Man spray and put his face in the ceiling and that
I suggest you be easy, relax
The man can flip, look at them putting teeth in your strap
Greaze **** 'round with more teeth in your back
But we move low 'cause we know that the Ds want us trapped
True stories, though
Got shot before he saw the toes, rose and looks like he saw a ghost
Get your chest pushed when I let the sawney go
Straight back, and we stay black like Oreo
Yeah, you heard about Carlton, fuck the rest of them

Writer(s): Nathaniel Thompson & Daniel Collins.