Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
**** know what time it is
It's Big Ma fucking Rad
You know I'm not really on that shouting
So I'll just keep it moving, innit
See what I'm saying right now?
It's the new mixtape
Who said that, fam?
My ****, follow my name
You already know him, man
He run the B-Team, yeah
Shout to my **** Tiny Boost
We say you're the in ting right now, yeah
Let's just show 'em how it goes down, yeah
The petrol's big and the matt is long
Out on the street all night like a vagabond
**** think they're greasy with my magic wand
Kuff, cuff, queff like the ragga song
I shot the whole UK and **** yapping on
Thinking that they're ready for the throne like my stat is gone
Fuck a happy song
Nothing ain't good, **** gotta get it cracking on
Better show your boy
Can't you see the ting bulging out? That's my bulky toy
The AK makes a load of noise
Breeze out and not the new shape but the older toy
As a youth, man, I rolled with the older boys
Now it's time to turn my swag on like I'm Soulja Boy
Wrapping up them fat rocks
Fred Flintstone, boulder boy
Active and dropping
Black gang that get it popping
Batman and chop him 'cause they yap and they gossip
Creeping through the night, Batman and Robin
The flat's looking modern
Food six out of ten, I back my deposit
Hit the club, Dom P, splashed all the profit
But a couple of lies is the cap for the sausage
Told them I wouldn't stop for sure
Kicked off the whole thing, they couldn't lock the door
When the older youts used to try and bully man
I always looked him dead in the face, I couldn't watch the floor
That **** got laid out, couldn't stop the four
Bussing off, thinking to myself I could've stopped a war
Fuck that, let me drop the law
Where his top some more?
Like Boost, just show them how it goes, fam
I got a big ting to hold 'cause it's pepper on the roads
You don't wanna get involved, fam, I'll pepper up your clothes
I push poles to your chest, you'll get left on the road
You get swept off your toes if I press and unload
It's Tiny Boost, that young G you ain't fucking with
Know what the fuck it is, I'll roll up and touch your shit
I pull my guns out, nah, I don't tuck 'em in
You'll be coughing blood out if I touch your skin
Got couple guns, I wanna touch 'em with them
K shows are sharp but I ain't tryna cut the prick
**** talk until I push one in their upper lip
You little pussy ain't nothing, give it up and quit
When I'm popping my something, that's some other pistol
You know what it feels like to give uppercuts
Push it in your face, close range, I'm barking
That's a close casket, yeah, I know I'm cold-hearted
Call who you want, **** know what I'm armed with
You'll be left with a shoulder if I shoot you where your arm is
I step on you bugs like carpets, fuck slumps
I fling 'em in the cartridge, you don't wanna be a target
We got the saddies with the clutches and it's nothing like a R6
Black gang riders, ain't no fucking 'round with Arkley
Got some young dargs that'll stab you where your heart is
Get down with the dons or get dearly departed
I've been doing this ting and you **** just started
Been about before that shout out on talking the hardest
I'll shoot you in your whip and leave your corpse where your car is
If I spray you with the MAC, it ain't stitches and plasters
That's your brains on the floor, fam, you should've thought faster

Writer(s): Nathaniel Thompson & Daniel Collins.