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swammy - rapture 4d lyrics

[intro]
uh, uh, uh
sick, sick, sick, sick
sick, sick
demon ting

[verse 1: merky ace]
i worship the guy with horns on his head
not thorns on his head
i was talking with uncle about some big food
but i will never report what he said
you can never try shot me an extortionate z
tek that, all the rest and all of your bread, that’s clean out cupboard
says he flogs work but no, he doesn’t
living off gyal, that’s a washed ting
be your own man, no pain, no gain
tryna get a boxing on the rocky
tryna earn money is my favourite hobby
like a hand ting but i love a dotty
’cause i know i’ll leave you slumped in a lobby
gyal dem piper like roddy
but i’m not him, he’s a n-body
and if a man ever try move shoddy
haffi spin on n-gg-s’ back like turbo
said he’s got loud but no one ever heard though
he was just trapping on records
i’ve got that trunch that will open your eyes
and the black ting on the guinness world book of records
that’s that sushi
real life, this ain’t no joke, belushi
late night, mandy’s scoping a movie
hole in key, i’m tryna take lucy
gave nina away ’cause she’s bookey
cost me one-two but i made two-three
man will bun you if you try boof me
risk my freedom to mek a one-two p
man won’t tek that, didn’t even shoot me
can’t tell me ’bout mash and not boot it
can’t tell me ’bout trap, i move two tings
so i shot, make prof’, keep it moving

[chorus: jendor]
gonna get murked
28 shots in the side of the merc
28 shots in the car, 28 shots in the front of the car
back of the car, under the car
28 shot from far, 28 shots in his -rs-
cuh your -rs- ain’t bulletproof
put the last bullet in his face
switch like ooh, ooh
gonna get murked
28 shots in the side of the merc
28 shots in the car, 28 shots in the front of the car
back of the car, under the car
28 shot from far, 28 shots in his -rs-
cuh your -rs- ain’t bulletproof
put the last bullet in his face
switch like ooh, ooh

[verse 2: southside jb]
look
every corner of this block, i done dirt
p-ssy boy said he’ll k!ll me
on my life, he’ll dead first
trippy drums, just whip, whip
that tt, he’s an expert
everyday, same f-ckery
get money, g, then head burst
call my phone, no network
too underground, get bread works
treat your b-tch like b-ttons
b-ttons, man just press her
i smoke this stinking loud
till my chest and my head hurts
young boy out there slanging those packs
packs till his legs hurt
bad gyal wan’ give me neck, uck, neck
till her neck hurts
babylon getting me vexed
so vexed, i skrrt skrrt
nick me for failing to stop?
yeah, right, i done worse
man get money from london, bristol
liverpool, even dunkirk
country
get rid of food, then spend that money on dingers
bullets and burners
f-ck up your block with bare can’t-by
man f-ck up your bloodclart german
bring out the young boy, come on a drill, g
there’s nuttin’ better than learning
look how the python’s sick
gun smoke, barrel just turning

- rapture 4d lyrics

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