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Lyrics

London City, they gangbang in Tech Fleece's
I put a pussy on the spot like set pieces
I'm known for buil'in' up blocks, I go to next regions
Sometimes my head gets hot and I forget reason
My hands was cold on the strip, now my neck's freezin'
I'm going cold on the drip, this is next season
Jailhouse reading, that was chess pieces
Mind your mouth boy, I hit you in your chestpiece

Probably why I'm famous and they still won't give me entry
The mandem said I really made the comeback of the century
Labels wanna reinvent me, but I'm Trench P
Hopped out the gate to a Bentley, you get me
I 'member I was broke, had to tick a quarter
No car for the block had to hit the corner
Sometimes I still spin by, 'cah I miss the trauma
And over there I'm making hits like Tiggs Da Author

Lyrics continue below...

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I'm live 24-7, what a sick performer, what a sick performance
Free the jailhouse, I really miss my audience
These is big proportions
I made a hundred in amount and got shipped to Moorlands

London City they gangbang in Range Rovers
At your crib like 60-minute makeovers
I left that pussy on the yard with his face open
Now I'm home tearin' tops like Hulk Hogan
I think I'm Steve Austin, tryna Stone Cold them
Four man, four hammers in this old Shogun
This a life you don't wanna stick no cold toes in
I'm always live so the boys can't bring no GoPro's in

I 'ont like that, some tryna move the goalpost ting
That's the type of shit that had me out in old clothin'
You ain't like that, I bet they tell you no smokin'
I keep cats smokin', I keep hoes hopin'
You ain't standing on my toes, you ain't encroachin'
If I put this on your block, I bet it's explosive
I should've never threw that Z at him, that Z's thrown him
If that was my darg, I woulda had to disown him

Why don't you tell them about that jacket that I ripped holes in
Or how I gave him all that packet, now his wrist's frozen
But I'm a music mogul now, I feel like Rick Rubin
I'm overseas countin' money with this big Cuban

Round my neck, it's danglin'
Time it right, I'll angle him
In the flesh, I strangle him and anyone who stands with him
I think I might need counsellin'
I saw the dots and sanded it and done the overhand with it
They know that - got blammed with it

London City, they gangbang in Tech Fleece's
I put a pussy on the spot like set pieces
I'm known for buil'in' up blocks, I go to next regions
Sometimes my head gets hot and I forget reason
My hands was cold on the strip, now my neck's freezin'
I'm going cold on the drip, this is next season
Jailhouse reading, that was chess pieces
Mind your mouth boy, I hit you in your chestpiece

Writer(s): Mason, Yung Swisher

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