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g-lay - joe james lyrics

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[verse 1]
look, i ain’t one for the he say she say
and i don’t care who’s got the new plate
or got the day*date with the factory green face
i’ll make your g lay in his gilet
high*speed chase from e3 to greengate
then fly to palmers green and leave somethin’ there with my greek mate
them man got fly yesterday, i’ve been great
and i’m in cali gettin’ trees for the cheap rate
it’s so peak, they’re like, “oh, for pete’s sake!”
and my uncle tunde taught mе how to load prepaid
and showed me thе method for doin’ the boog tax rebates
so i’ve been makin’ dirty money tryna keep me a clean slate
sippin’ on white wine till i can’t see straight
had a mutant ting like jean grey
hood ting from grays, she pretty, but still though
box gyal out of their box braids
you don’t wanna see with thirteen basildon boys in black
on your block like “what, mate?”
like “what, mate? what, mate?”
dropped so many tapes, can’t keep up with the drop dates
like “what, mate? what, mate?”
i ain’t done a show yet, but i’m still showin’ you up, mate
like “what, mate? what, mate?”
what’s with the stallin’?
you man got more delays
than the docklands railway (you’re not movin’)
[chorus]
i’ve gone clear
i don’t give a toss about your new moncler
i’ll make your g lay in his gilet
point and shoot, but my name’s not cissé
i can’t give man leeway
can’t show no leeway
bun what they say, man, i done it my own way
everyone knows that i done it like oj
gone clear
i don’t give a toss about your new moncler
i’ll make your g lay in his gilet
point and shoot, but my name’s not cissé
i can’t give man leeway
can’t show no leeway
bun what they say, man, i done it my own way
everyone knows that i done it, i’m oj

[verse 2]
bro said he needed the eisenkiesel
jubilee strap, fluted bezel as well
i’m locked in, but i’ve never been jail
said this food ain’t ever gon’ pebble itself
nice hotel with a mademoiselle
white slippers and dressin’ gown both on the house
had a clean run sixty on the bounce
and the mark up’s wild, big p’s on an ounce
got a spoilt wife who needs an allowance
in my ear like, “joe, this jacquemus bag in blue is a timeless classic”
she don’t know countless times i put that food on the digs and casually bagged it
your boy got wrapped and you still didn’t back it
still doin’ road in my dagye jacket
cuttin’ through chelsea doin’ big numbers
with a german like i’m michael ballack
i can count who’s real on my one left b*ll*ck
life is life, what you man so mad at?
if you want somethin’, best believe i’ve got it
you’re not that guy, man, please just stop it
pull off in the whip then spin in like bop it
turkey bags full of kush, i’m shoppin’
gotta make sure that children get more than oranges in their christmas stockin’
unce said job is job, i’m choppin’
glock 17 will headtop him
claret all over his moncler, shockin’
i been puttin’ things in place for a minute
cah when it’s go time there ain’t no stoppin’
i’ll make your g lay down in his gilet
chop up the soul, man do him like kwollem
know one guy from shrewsbury, horrible c*nt like bricktop
yeah, he’s a wrongen
if it’s that time, i’m chilling home
he’s at your old girl’s yard, casually knocking
[outro]
listen
gone clear
i don’t give a toss about your new moncler
i’ll make your g lay in his gilet
cissé

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