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raised in the slums - marky b lyrics

raised in the slums lyrics
grew up in the slums and it’s naturally crazy
make music, it actually pays me
keep to myself ’cause they factually hate me
too much cannabis packs on a

(grew, grew) grew up in the slums and it’s naturally crazy
make music, it actually pays me
keep to myself ’cause they factually hate me
too much cannabis packs on a daily
i save money ’til my stacks looking crazy
make music, the hate don’t phase me
sick of these feds that have always chased me
too much cannabis packs on a daily

i be ripping on the block with a pocked full of white stuff
and if you wore ticks, better know you’re getting tied up
chill with my amigo, i don’t like the sly stuff
5k on his head, he’ll get his life took
the flat’s always smoky, grabbing the pokey
too much weed, paranoid if you know me
get annoyed if you owe me
don’t snapchat buds, pull up and show me
like chicks that are badders, better use their manners
i be taking chicks to the gaff since i lived at my nana’s
me and jimmy cruising, the x5 had us
put it in reverse, buy a rammer, it’s a mazza
pull up at the crib, got sticks and stabbers
land with the team, grab bricks and hammers
barricade the door, i’m avoiding the slammer
ain’t coming out of here ’til the jakes have scattered
grew up in the slums and it’s naturally crazy
make music, it actually pays me
keep to myself ’cause they factually hate me
too much cannabis packs on a daily
i save money ’til my stacks looking crazy
make music, the hate don’t phase me
sick of these feds that have always chased me
too much cannabis packs on a daily

(grew up in the slums and it’s naturally crazy
make music, it actually pays me
keep to myself ’cause they factually hate me
too much cannabis packs on a daily
save money ’til my stacks looking crazy
make music, the hate don’t phase me
sick of these feds that have always chased me
too much cannabis packs on a daily)

you might see me at parties, stood with a smartwhip
they say i’m kinda sick, i say “b*tch i’m an artist,”
madman i can’t be, the man with bacardi
i want the premium gold bottle with the mark in
daytime shifts in, night time drinking
don’t ever flip with the man that i sit with
jungle boys on the pack that i l!ck stick
mark on my neck and my shirt, is it lipstick?
i’m a pro, can never call me a beginner
’cause i wanna make my money, fold the stack and make it bigger
from class a’s, make money from a kidda
i will pull up in a dinger, winner winner chicken dinner
got to take the chase again, take the race to them
ain’t ever stopping ’cause i might face the pen
too many clout diggers up in my dms
so i tell them that i’ll f*ck them, but it’s never more than friends
i’m sick of ads on my tracks
sick of that bubble popping on my air max
and i smoke pukkas on a daily
i be smoking an ounce or a rare pack
grew up in the slums and it’s naturally crazy
make music, it actually pays me
keep to myself ’cause they factually hate me
too much cannabis packs on a daily
save money ’til my stacks looking crazy
make music, the hate don’t phase me
sick of these feds that have always chased me
too much cannabis packs on a daily

f*ck that, i’ll man smoke ’em
bunning on the cali that is potent
what is the craic or the motive?
if you want beef, grab shogies
and if you want weed, grab rollies
back to the motive
professional not a novice
love these sheets, make bread like hovis
tell me where the poke is
i can make you bleed where the vein in your throat is
jugular vein, man i know this

- marky b lyrics

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