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quick 1-2 - pete & bas lyrics

[verse 1: pete]
i ain’t got time for wasting
so i’ma be direct hastings
let off the dogs, they chase him
watch ’em run like greyhound racing
in a big old yacht, plain sailing
seize it, that’s mine for the taking
shut your mouth
nah, we don’t deal with the bacon
and i mind my business
family man, i love my missus
feet up with a tea in a cup and a rag in my hand and a plate full of biscuits
stay silent witness
you don’t wanna end up name on the hitlist
get cut, get trim, can’t run from me i’m on top of my fitness
[verse 2: bas]
glass of the dark bacardi
bird wanna come bonk at the after party
call me captain while i’m backing the rum
second to none, i’m one big son of a gun
and i’m paid
this money comes rolling in
louis luggagе, i hold it in
pin stripe on the suit and it’s ysl
i got evеry colour they sold it in
let me just break it down
25 bags on the racing hounds
a man like me don’t wait around
you make one wrong move, get taken out
touch screen on the tesla dash
high tech, new name, call me techno*bas
inspector gadget, the car’s got magnets
glove box pin to protect the mash

[verse 3: pete]
hop out the range, re*arranging my hair
then i’m jumping the queue to the front
yeah, step to the green room
smoking a man then i’m rolling his ash in a blunt, uh
anyone will get that backhand
sovereigns up to the kingdom come
nah, i don’t give a monkeys
knocking boots with his bird while i back this rum, yeah
let me grab my shooter
give me the keys to the car, no scooter
loot that strip, then i stack that mula
circle the block in a loop, like a hula hoop
so rude, so reckless
iced out charm on my diamond necklace
my name’s at the top of the guestlist
little pr*ck, give him a jab just like tet*n*s
[verse 4: bas]
fix up, look sharper
young boys, you need to try harder
three piece suit while i sip cortado
got birds lined up for the young sinatra
i’m frank, with ’em, did ’em
bruck that down like brocks in the walls of the bando building
where the cracks got filled in, so the feds couldn’t find that stash
back to the villa
mattress drilling
head*top gone like circumcision
love this feeling
countless women
count that cash while i sing bob dylan
london villain, rise and grill ’em
his time’s up, let me richard millem
boys come with ’em
dirt and dig ’em
six feet deep in a dirty ditch

[verse 5: pete]
and i’m in my seventies
old cat with a flow so heavenly
big gaff on the hill like beverly
steel toe cap air force energy
god bless my enemies
we’re not chums, i’m a different pedigree
so don’t talk that nonsense
or you get toasted like prawn sesame
scored so many goals, don’t miss
taking the p*ss
where’s your keeper?
chopped up in a black bin bag
poor sod lost in a bosch fridge freezer
i’m a lovely geezer
but sometimes i’m a violent b*st*rd
i work hard all week, wait ’till the weekend then i get plastered
[verse 6: bas]
park up outside, headlights on full
full of them sticks, so i can’t get pulled
pulling them birds like rings on cans
can a man rest?
i’ma block them calls
call cleaners when a job gets done
done a man in, did him in, got spun
spin that wheel, foot down on the pedal
pedalling gear, ship that by the tonne
tunbridge wells for the house in cunch
went country to supply that lunch
lunch outside in a plastic wrap
wrapped up warm for the night time run
run a man down, then i grabbed his food
fed that grub to the local nits
knit tight, got a smaller circle
circle the block while i fling them bits

- pete bas lyrics

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