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next up? - tunde mcr lyrics

(no way hozay)

in the booth with akh an’ skeng
smokin’ on some peng*a*leng
when the macs in the dinger
man have gotta dip and blend
if [?] is in your ends tell to friend to tell a friend
c block, miggy world to the f*ckin’ end
catch me on your back block
mobbin’ with black block
smokin’ on a fat nug
shottin’ off some fat rocks
if it ain’t the nina it’s the spinner in the black sock
if it ain’t the burger then it’s lookin’ like the black glock
rest in peace miguel my little brother was a black god
let it die down then we’re comin’ in like black ops
fns and m10s you’re f*ckin’ with thе mad mob
brand new aps comin’ with the black fog
tracker on your pеrsonal
jack boys we’ll get your gaff robbed
since we lost migz we’ll do it mask on or mask off
if i get the drop then i’m rushin’ like a makrov
hitters on speed dial, and they do a fast job
’99 to ’05 kickin’ ball at fletcher moss
’05 to ’18 hittin’ l!cks and l!ckin’ off
drivers window’s always down
right ear’s bakin’ off
she just wants some steak and lob but i just wanna scr*pe this pot
i’ve never had a b*tch in the room while whippin’ rock
cos i was raised on this bay sh*t, it’s the mob
i been with my main ting for 5 years and guess what
she ain’t even seen my spot
mafia lifestyle got me feelin’ mob boss
shout my gritters from the ch to the moss block
yg on the come up, big pack in the sock
if it’s not the spin spin then the pack in the glock
i’m from chorlton, c block active a lot
had a 100 racks at 21, chat to me dog
they think i’m 28 i’m 23 it’s actually f*cked
they think i’m 28 i’m 23 it’s actually f*cked
in the booth with ish and dyl
tryna hit a f*ckin’ mil
cop a crib on the hill
if you’re talkin’ deals you best be talkin’ quarter mils
if not ‘low it cos the streets dem have got me
catch him makin’ plays where the mob be
my little tiger hit a l!ck he’s lookin’ all frosty
pull up in a srt don’t ask me what it cost me
them figures there they be soundin’ all boxy
and the feds dem are nosey man have gotta watch g
but since i lost my little bro i couldn’t give a f*ck b
always trapped from city might hit up country
peein’ up these london yutes and thats where the funds be
the streets call me [?] but my real names tunde
you can catch me on the c block from monday to monday
all i want is caramel cream no sundae
phones dem are jumpy
10 10 got me up and down like a bungee
gettin gwolla no delay
passing phones every 8 hours like a f*ckin’ relay
and i don’t trust a soul now
so if the bags on deck then know how we stay
remember times i was so broke
me and migz robbin’ bikes then throwin’ it on ebay
i’m near the alley like frando’s
i got my bally on my head cos l!ck squad’s how the gang goes
man are buzzin’ off some jewellery
but your ice is watered down like both b*ttons at nando’s
and i wish a kid would
cos i never leave the gaff without the snubby or the rambo
and they’re callin’ me the white boy
i’m in a hot rod with antiguans and sambos
so free akhi out the bin, lb, mlow, at and the mad bros
i love lizzie cos that n*gga splits his sweets with me
if you see a bag of bulge know i’ve got the heat with me
loyalty’s the key if you wanna eat with me
remember grabbin’ bags of haze like i couldn’t see 50
me and keemz on the track going back to back
stolen or legal going lap for lap
just done a hot one need a strap for strap
linkin’ up in other cities goin’ trap for trap
your lines dead cos you’re givin’ out bad bone
i’m up and down mauldeth mobbin’ with my trap phone
hit a l!ckle 2 had to my stack grown
now the jeeps cherry red with the mad chrome
i’m with a bad b*tch givin’ out mad dome
21s the code if you know my zone
on the block blowin’ woods no pine cone
encro my hitter you can get your mind blown

- tunde mcr lyrics

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