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check the score - skinz (uk rapper) lyrics

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[verse 1]
i ain’t never beat a trial, i tried to thief a n*gga’s style
i’ve been running up these figures, n*ggas know i hold it down
still get it out the mud
i was broke and the plug finessed ’cause he don’t love us
and yo i regulate around these blocks, i got these two cats jugging
talk up on my runners, if he lost the pack then i just bruck him
kept that sh*t one hundred, i was in the trap like it’s nuttin
only thing that saved me, i weren’t waiting on no b*tt*in
and yo don’t play me, this big four*four ain’t got no safety
i’m in the streets, too many crash the whip and diе running from the police
f*ck with him the samе cah i sell him sweets
i’ve been on the block, been tryna make like ten a week
and now it’s regular
i remember when i ran a hundred off my cellular
and did it again
i got locked, went straight to the pen
i came back, ran that sh*t up again
that’s how it is n*gga

[chorus]
check the score for the opps
take a risk, we break a tops
i love the hood like nipsey, if i stay they’ll probably get me shot
got it boxed, rocked, you can die right there on the spot
there ain’t no love in the hood
when you’re grinding, these n*ggas plotting
i’m still smoking the street, when i trap i ain’t selling deets
only in the can where you get five bill a sheet
i came home and turned this nuttin into suttin
when i f*ck her hard, you know she cumming
i regulate round the pot when i got this coke cooking
why they act like they know me? cah they don’t know nuttin
i’ve been doing h*lla mazzas, i can put my feet up
got my little n*gga trapping, he just want a re*up
every day i’m in the t, these packs be getting beat up
he can’t talk to me ’bout paper cah i know that he bruck
i ain’t chopping up a z, i make that money from my bed
they gon’ make me put a hundred on my wrist, them man are dead
[verse 2]
you don’t trap like this
i’m getting old but i’m still pushing crack like kids
ain’t no code, every time they’re getting bagged, they snitch
i’m in a hundred band whip with a fifty on my wrist
my n*gga used to eat these man for dinner
all of them pulled up in the dinger
he gon’ give it up, if he don’t then i’m gon’ pull the trigger
i’ve been on the block, still sipping c*cktails
i don’t pop pills
i’m icy with them rock grills
i’m still on the block, got the dope in my sock
put a four in the pot and you know that i chop
every year, you know i’m f*cking up these commas
and when i had a fifty, i kicked to a hundred
f*ck these rappers, i got more love for my runners
and you know that i’m the keeper to my brothers
i’ma make sure i win, that’s on my mother’s

[chorus]
check the score for the opps
take a risk, we break a tops
i love the hood like nipsey, if i stay they’ll probably get me shot
got it boxed, rocked, you can die right there on the spot
there ain’t no love in the hood
when you’re grinding, these n*ggas plotting
i’m still smoking the street, when i trap i ain’t selling deets
only in the can where you get five bill a sheet
i came home and turned this nuttin into suttin
when i f*ck her hard, you know she cumming
i regulate round the pot when i got this coke cooking
why they act like they know me? cah they don’t know nuttin
i’ve been doing h*lla mazzas, i can put my feet up
got my little n*gga trapping, he just want a re*up
every day i’m in the t, these packs be getting beat up
he can’t talk to me ’bout paper cah i know that he bruck
i ain’t chopping up a z, i make that money from my bed
they gon’ make me put a hundred on my wrist, them man are dead

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