lifestyle - jordan lyrics
different lifestyle
crazy feeling
3 months ago i was in a cell freezing
3 years 8 months i’ve just been in
out now, loving life, it’s like i’m dreaming
ap with my bird, big bed i sleep in
looking at her making dinner never thought i’d see this
she waited all the way she’s the realist
to get that respect a lot of sh*t she had to deal with
hundreds of miles, so i could get weed in
big matics’ in the car, real sh*t
hide around the corner why i bill kids
remy said your hard but bro start vibsin’
told him i can’t rap about nice sh*t
every time i’m writing it’s violent, flashbacks to firing
slap grass, got bagged, in a cell, silent
screws running in for my phone and i’m fighting
coming out of jail doing shootings unlicensed
robbed half my town cah’ i get consignment
i ain’t gotta rap about riding’
the whole city knows the missions that i did
i done drill before drills i ain’t lying
i got busy in a bando then i went jail got busy on a zanco
turned two quid to a sixty bag stack bro
stick to my nine he tried puffing me for that coke
so i sent him round there banging it in his mam’s home
street life, jail life, bro you know how that goes
done 4 years and i still had my graft phone
so i could look after my bird and give my mum dough
ten jails deep on a mission like rambo
always had it nice anywhere that i land though
every visit that i had, a grab bag and grab phone
i ain’t sending kids to do a man’s job
i get hands on
go and ask them rats that i land on
banged on, stabbed and stamped on
f*ck life i never had one
back out of jail on a mad one
cash strong, straps long
bags of black johns
f*ck life i never had one
back out of jail on a mad one
24/7 on these mad kerbs
robberies and adverbs
rob guys, bag work
bro are f*cking hungry like them kids on the adverts
blowing through the red lights tryna lose the blue ones
100 miles an hour with the tunes on
six and a half years, the judge gave me too long
lived in 15 prisons man i’m too strong
i roll with hyenas, everyday struggle, b.i.g in the speakers
i’m known for dragging dealers out of beamers
i’m known for slapping birds in steamers
running in homes with beaters
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buy bare things even though i don’t need em’
my only problem is where the f*ck can i keep em’
since a young age been striped like adidas
if money doesn’t grow on trees tell me what the haze is
we’re the baitest, police know our faces
car chases, them council estate kids
they put my face on the front page of the papers
and i was broke man i had to make changes
had to stack raises, fast whips get plated
tracksuits and trainers to louboutins and blazers
f*ck jail i’ve seen too many cages
i ain’t sending kids to do a man’s job
i get hands on
go and ask them rats that i land on
banged on, stabbed and stamped on
f*ck life i never had one
back out of jail on a mad one
cash strong, straps long
bags of black johns
f*ck life i never had one
back out of jail on a mad one
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