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feltz or f3ltzyy - cadillac 3style lyrics
hook 1 _ feltz
i’m like, i ain’t got time for the chit_chat
broski in the box it don’t come with no gift wrap
this is london where you can get your wig splat
murder money got you looking fresh like a tic_tac
or them trap stacks, grub in the bin bag
if the feds got me in the cuffs, i ain’t gonna sing back
and if i get locked up then i’m gonna wing that
bangers on bangers i’m just looking for the bring back
tell the dj spin that
verse 1 _ feltz
i just want the money i don’t care where the minge at
dome shots got your mum wondering where your f_cking fringe at
junkies on the line with syringe stabs
man it’s f_cked in the l d n
big sammies and lengthy skengs
gotta watch where you step on ends
gotta clock whose your real friends
before sh_t gets intense
f_ck feds i’ll be hopping over the fence
that’s the stardawg if you smell the stench
big tools in the box, that’s a hammer or a wrench
and the thing came in heavy and hench
get hit with the copper, get yourself some cents (sense)
living in poverty we hood dirty
but dying for a postcode isn’t hood worthy
sh_t gets gritty, kids getting murkey
been a little sh_t since nursery
man this sh_t it hurts me
love the one that birthed me
praying i reach thirty
and don’t go cold turkey
smoking on a loudpack
chilling where the clouds at
tryna have a proud dad
but i doubt that
i’m lost in this place that they love to call h_ll
tryna make my name ring on the bells
too much food been up on the scales
gotta be lowkey i ain’t tryna go to jail
hustle for the money so the food will sell
gotta keep on bagging up until i’m living well
delivering door to door like the royal mail
food coming in green, dark and pale, wow
that’s the re_up
i bet you love me when i be up
we smoke a tree up
and get the pee up
i f_ck then cya
i know you want to be me but i won’t be ya
cute ting coming like clia
ride out in the kia
i’m with leah and tia
they roll my weed up
we smoking, we smoking, we getting smokey
gotta be lowkey
yo shout out yogi
wassup yogi?
like i ain’t got no time for the fake sh_t
man i’m tryna stop my time like the matrix
they don’t, know my name but they hate this
imagine if i made it
greatness
i wonder how they’d take it
i’m just tryna make it
have my mum in the clouds like a f_cking sp_ceship
i’m getting closer it’s like i can taste it
i’m still taking drugs i’m getting wasted
face it
i’mma do it until i ace it
get your girl naked
and f_ck to some drake sh_t
amazing
but i’mma be patient
taking trips but i ain’t vacant
chilling in the yard with some jamaicans
hook 1 _ feltz
i’m like, i ain’t got time for the chit_chat
broski in the box it don’t come with no gift wrap
this is london where you can get your wig splat
murder money got you looking fresh like a tic_tac
or them trap stacks, grub in the bin bag
if the feds got me in the cuffs, i ain’t gonna sing back
and if i get locked up then i’m gonna wing that
bangers on bangers i’m just looking for the bring back
tell the dj spin that
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