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ink - philips dead lyrics
{intro}
[mike tyson]
i’m sonny liston,i’m jack dempsey
there’s no one like me. i’m from their cloth
there’s no one that can match me
my style is impetuous
my defence is impregnable, and i’m just ferocious
i want your heart. i want to eat his children
praise be to allah
{hook} [ink]
my man pull up with the ak-74u
little attachment scope for the dot
foldable stock banana clip holding the shots
got a young g parked off and he holding a glock
you might get shot he holding a block
your mums upset ’cause philips dead
he got stabbed to death with a phillips head
{verse 1} [daf]
running with opps, tryna get lippy
on the patch with rickey and whitney
flicking a flicky, the women that’s with me
will suck you for 50, me b-tches are filthy
me life is risky, look
tryna get smart i’ll kick that f-cking door
q’s for scores, dublin wh-r-s you’re still with [?]
man f-ck the raw, got violated done man wrong
45 parked off with a box
ink told you before we come for the crops
get effort in [?], got girls pedalling p-ssy
slashed to bits by a heroin junkie
that owes man money, look (look)
got flake there and it’s lovely
weight for sale , girl scout cookies
b-mpys rusty, do man dirty
big daf pal you know mans certi, look (certified)
you’re laughed at in fairness
i’ll bust that ting ’till it clicks and jump in the whip
and man start swervin’ (skrr)
man’ll be 60 out here serving
thought he was hard ’till he seen me in person
you don’t wanna end up like my last one
wide to the sus, don’t pull no fast ones
storm your oul ones gaff with mad c-nts
8’s on scales right now to bag up
boys are on that bad stuff, they must be
to act like this, push the knife in your ribs
get cut up in the shower on a psycho ting
get cut up to bits in prison, shut up ye tick you’ll go missing
supply the fiends on [?] with tablets
told ye pal you’re laughed at
your birds a dirty smack rat
cut up and bashed at a session
set up by tramps from your section
fed up with rats no messing
{hook} [ink]
my man pull up with the ak-74u
little attachment scope for the dot
foldable stock banana clip holding the shots
got a young g parked off and he holding a glock
you might get shot he holding a block
your mums upset ’cause philips dead
he got stabbed to death with a phillips head
{verse 2} [ink]
hop out the bush like jack in a box
man’ll get slapped and jacked for his box
one phone call will leave your man dead
my gang there will fill them with lead
man’ll get clapped, hid in the shed
if i kick that door, he p-ssing the bed
pull up-pull up
whipping that [?]
we got scopes look through the lens
got him on sight, look to the left
man’ll get blown straight through the [?]
back my shank, twisted and fed
clip his dread when i hit his head
hits[?] to death he get chinged and cheffed
rig the corners and bring that lead
bring the hash on me, bring that lead[?]
bring the hash on man, bring that lead[?]
dublin man’ll get shot, man’ll get got
end up in a box, man’ll get got when he’s stopped in traffic
click, boom, automatic
86gang will let them dogs out
splash his face with chemical compound
got your team on ropes like pressured men
scope and beam, i’ll send them in
irish drill yeah, mans the king
down on one knee, kiss that ring
godfather yeah mans that don man
get that grub and get that gone
86gang, chop it and bag it
all our [?] whip with that magic
all our [?] whip with that magic (whip it, whip it, whip it)
all our [?] whip with that magic
run man down, grip him and grab him
back my shank, dip him and stab him (dip him)
mans on road with a jagged edge
chop off his top and bag his head (bag his head)
get that eejit, petrol and bleach it
none of their boys are bad (none of them)
none of them boys are baddies
like burner said (like burner said)
why the f-ck are they wearing ballys?
hit your gang out here like indians
scalp his head and take his women
grab that gun, make the wap sneeze
make a boy run, just like athlete
race that pump, c-ck it and squeeze
make your gal drop to her knees
86gang [?] them trees
reload pack, dropping them keys
man go off-off on that beat
man get locked stocking that street
man get lock off with that team
take his head off with that beam
man got z’s out here on peds
we keeping sketch out here for feds
return-return
return of the sand n—-
isis warrior, taliban n—-
chop him up and put him in bin bag
got a long sword and it bend like sinbads (bend like sinbads)
all your dad put you in school
your an’ll get offed with the longest tool
hit your block with a bomb like.. (-explosion-)
i was in the trap with team
bruck this pack and it smell like gasolene
kick that door off your f-cking trap
enter the gaff with a dirty wap
fill up the bag you dirty rat
your b-tch talk sh-t your b-tch get slapped
and i ain’t afraid to whack no chick
i’ll empty the mac ’till the thing go click
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