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westwood crib session - pak-man lyrics

[verse 1: pak*man]
this time last year i was walking round a yorkshire town
talking bout objects flying for under forty thou
this year i bought a house, extend border now
sometimes life ain’t all about balling out
people feel me from bradford down to birmingham
girls say their cousin know me, swear i never heard of him
coventry, leicester, which city next up?
might do a show there, few racks extra
i ain’t talking in riddles
playing both sides of the fence
might find yourself caught in the middle
cookies in the microwave, breaking that biscuit
paid in full, more money than mitch sh*t
had three*bag pinkies and eight g bracelets
other day i seen hd in a sp*ceship
saw my last visual, i got more than four on it
but certain situations, i don’t talk on it
situations that i’ma act on, this paper will get you clapped on
this blazer i spent a rack on
i ain’t watching these silly pr*cks
they’re in the booth rapping bout a life that i really live
back in ’05, me and roach was in milli’s crib
billing it, listening to some old school syndicate
now i’m smoking on some indica
before i touched the road, i told roach “load my spinner up”
don’t get caught lacking in your car in traffic
i’m more than just the hardest pakistani rapping
everybody say that they’re going hard and trapping hard
hardly stacking, i spent money for a yard in harrods
givenchy addict, my wardrobe the maddest
can’t see me on the roads but i’m active
make a pack vanish, disappear like my dad did
chilling in ess*x in a mad crib
j money in his beema, sixty g rapid
i couldn’t picture me slacking
[verse 2: shaker]
for a little while no one could see my face
was on bail in luton tryna beat my case
met a pale skinned yute, he bought the weed my way
i got my pen and my pad and my beats by dre
zoned out, i got a bag full of beats by slay
and at the end of every week is tg fridays
on my knees i pray so on my feet i stay
i knew when i get nfa, that’ll be my day
i wanna fly back home on a p.i.a
cause the cid moving like the cia
logging onto facebook and tryna see my page
taxman tryna calculate the p’s i made
armani jeans denim and the levi’s suede
i need a drink right now, i’m gonna dehydrate
get the trap back jumping like t.i. say
we’re all jerks cah we work for the queen like slaves
i just wanna live well
got the prosecutor gathering the intel
shout out that solicitor, she did well
got me back on the road, five jibs bail
shout out to my bruddas that the pigs held
feeling like they in h*ll in jail
p*ssed off, sitting in cells vexed still
blow off for them like inhale exhale
when i think about things on a big scale
i just think about the world after this world
but all i see is big sales, brick sales
shrapnel, spent sh*lls, cocaine, fish scales
class a, class b, never getting expelled
i get more kush in for the pushing like big girls
i got man cooking and looking for quick sales
on the guards of the fence, moving like israel
and right now i’m at a crossroads
cause i don’t know what’s stop and what’s go
should i shot snow? should i shot crow?
should i break it all down? should i shot o’s?
should i sell it all wholesale like costco?
move a lot of snow, i got frost flow
moving on the road with some lost souls
and it’s a rocky road dodging potholes
i ain’t looking left right, speeding through the red lights
anybody get bright, end up on the headlines
sh*t, metaphorically speaking
i’m the best rapper that’s probably breathing
nah i’m just gassing but i probably could be
if i had a mill cash, where would the hood be?
[verse 3: pak*man]
vsi’s shining, no si’s
and my next ride be a cayman or a s5
the legend returns, my bug spreading like germs
these rappers rap about things that never occurred
they call me big pak, i got big packs, i don’t serve packets
l!cking out a bird rapid, picking out fur jackets
i just copped a new gilet with rabbit on it
plate got sea bass fillet or salmon on it
what’s wrong with these old, broke, washed dons?
p*ssed that a young brudda like me got on
too much cash in my pocket to fit inside of a wallet
i fly gucc, buy shoes made from python or ostrich
maybe crocodile like the strap on the cartier
i send clarkey there to grab a half a square
i grind hard honest, givenchy tee five stars on it
yayo in the pyrex, bicarb on it

[verse 4: shaker]
haven’t you heard?
i ain’t talking bout b*tches but i’m banging out birds
i can get ten on tick cause i’m a man of my word
i re*up on the first, i bring the money back on the third
i give a f*ck about the streets, i put my family first
if you f*cking with my fam, i put the swammy on burst
and i’m really trying not to get back on the works
but if it’s that then it’s that, f*ck the chat
i’m a irritated paki, nothing makes me happy
but being a daddy, had enough of living scatty
i don’t trust a lot of brothers, certain man’ll call you akhi
first chance they get, they do you dirty like a nappy
ten*ten ammi, cocaine snappy
twelve hours in the trap, smoking baccy
bad from when i wore a grey nike trackie
seven years later, still screaming “free trappy”
free zappa, free ghost, realer than most
sh*t is deeper than the ocean but i’m still swimming
keeping it in motion, my line still ringing
ten racks down, how the f*ck i’m still winning?
it’s my brother’s birthday, we in the duck & waffle
eating duck and waffle, sip a couple bottles
hit a couple brothels, do it for the f*ck of it
if semi was on road i woulda hit him with a couple bricks
still having dreams, i can hear the screams
the f*ck does it mean? it’s never what it seems
screaming “free ibz”, still screaming “free beenz”
he was putting in a shift when i was in my early teens
what happened to the team? what happened to the dream?
i’m moving with the times, that could never be redeemed
anyone can go now, all the lights green
got the ninety*nine flake, i ain’t talking ice creams
pocket full of paper, no money in my account
if i write a cheque then i bet you it’s gonna bounce
the feds have took so much money off me, i’m losing count
they’re tryna shut me down to the point i can’t move a ounce
but i can move a mountain, i ain’t feeling pressure mounting
i’m doing my usual rounds and i’m moving stupid amounts
using my peripheral so i can see the pound signs

- pak man lyrics

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