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juke (lab tv) - bar session feat. streetz lyrics
yo, what is?
boom! muzzleflash
big up my man, big up louis
free coxhill you know this, ay
[verse 1: juke]
you catch me filling up the runner billing haze uggies
getting fullies hit the fl!ck like i’m ace buggy
don’t pay kid i’ll break you like i break a cookie
if i bust it at your mates and miss your mates are lucky
don’t be askin why i does it i’m a rider bro
got bags full of magic like i’m dynamo
i get rave so i’m stacking up piles of dough
all the ladies are askin me for lines you know
so don’t be actin on top you wanna try me dude
get a bottle off your noggin in a violent mood
if there isn’t open shops kidda i’ll dial for booze
if i’m on it you’ll get robbed for your 9 and food
see you’re nothing when you’re all on your own g
done a bit of shot and now you don corleone
hot ones for you kid, hot ones for homies
had you dodging taking shots when you lonely, ha
had you dodging taking shots on your jack jones
jumping out dumping that hoping to slap domes
two big bangs couldn’t cope off this mad chrome
main runner’s been lumped for his graft phone
got whacked and his bit sn_tched
chatting coming with the gat you’ll get b_tch slapped
our kid drop a f_cking batch with the big strap
guarantee you’ll see a muzzle flash when we cl!ck clack
ahh cheese smoked daily ah
foot soldier hope these feet don’t fail me
sitting in the cell i hope at least don’t jail me
and i’m sweating till the court because police don’t bail me ha
jukey b the city knows about my name g
remember when my toes were nearly poking out my trainees
trying to stack my cash to splash on roleys and aps
f_ck an old timer with his “don’t knows” and “maybes”
nothing good about my hood
don’t be acting like you love the block
rather bust a glock up in your nog than let you shut my shop
from the bottom i had nothing plod have took the crop
jumping out the jock for little scott to f_cking cut the rock, trust
cold on these roads as a lad
was a hand_me_down kid old clothes on my back
couldn’t live the life i’m living nah i know for a fact
as a kidda i was active now there’s no going back, ha haaaaaa
trust there’s no hope for us lads
ever felt not safe so you roll with a strap?
ever took chases hit toes through the backs?
have you ever had rats try and run through your flat?
nah you’re lucky if you live to be a dad in f_cking liverpool
middle_class are happy when they’re munching from a silver spoon
for the cash i used to kip in punnies’ living rooms
now my brothers never hungry when i grip my food
yeah my ezzy, ready, we rip it off
teens in the team who wouldn’t hes’ to blow your kipper off
i tell a man sh_t’s getting heavy then he sits it off
chatting packing till you end up in the river alt
as a kid i’m playing togger in kirkby
those were the days brother nothing would hurt me
now i’m ot brother chopping that dirty
guaranteed jail or a coffin at 30
and rip to bogger and birdy
got told by my dad, i couldn’t swallow the words
he nearly cried first time i was dropping this verse b
won’t be too long until we follow the firm g
and nothing good about my hood
it’s dirty on the estate
imagine for the money getting murdered by your best mates
snakes up in the grass that f_cking turn on you to get cake
trying to earn enough so i can escape, ouch
so don’t be frontin little brother cause it’s real out here
have to steal out here, man will deal out here
couple rats turn snitch and they squeal out here
and there ain’t a f_ckin thing i ain’t seen out here
boom! one taker
yo! streetz!
bar session
big up my man juke
big up cl!cks, big up ramma
yo!
[verse 2: streetz]
here’s the story of a hustler kidda check this flow
haven’t rapped a couple months and now i’m back with dough
i’ve been pulling in the boxes from the dam rack bro
50 grand off a box and then it goes on snow
me and the brothers get it in you little nits don’t know
how to double that 50 like i get rich bro
there’s a lot to the sh_t that these nits don’t know
we’re on a strict ot the money don’t come slow
yo i’m living to die, i ain’t scared bout death
19 dodging bullets and you think you’re stressed
try and walk in my shoes, try and pass my test
bet you couldn’t walk a mile as me and be my flesh
been stabbed, been shot at, but we’ve all been shot
been a dealer, been a hustler, but we’ve all sold rocks
been a demon, been in beamers, riding round that block
but we’ve all got the problem of getting watched by plod
but that’s the life we live
we lived this way since kids
climbing up the drug ladder trying to get that crib
trying to make our mothers proud but that ain’t what we did
so mum forgive me for the time you found a mac_10 clip
i was beefing, mum’s grieving, saying “son stop this”
“i’m sick and tired of staying up thinking my son’s slipped”
but mum i promise no rats are gonna catch me slip
i guarantee i’ve got the mac, or i’ll pack that shiv
so don’t shoot, don’t be aimin, and you won’t get shot
don’t be chattin that you’re major cause you’ll face that glock
you’ll be tied up with your b_tch while your house gets robbed
we took your crop cause i’m a boss kind of like rick ross
so don’t be f_ckin with the team believe we bust shots
catch jukey with the .38 and me with a glock
catch cl!cks with the .50 and little ramma with the john
the sickest members on the map the liv mob
muzzleflash bang you don’t live like we do
you’re talking straps in your bag, kid you’ll need 2
little ramma’s got the john you should see how it shoots
something like a f_cking bomb we call it gotti, mr. nuke
we run this sh_t f_ck you pr_cks i’ve got my clips kid
semi_automatic we’ll make your f_cking wig split
cruising through the traffic in the lanny like a misfit (?)
connect the pump like cables wrapping round you f_cking dipsh_ts
look, this beef ain’t edible (?)
the mac’ll turn you to a vegetable
so don’t speak like you pack a tool
cause i can go green like hulk i’m incredible
i spit fire like a bunsen burner
talking bout a loaded strap i won’t get done for murder
had the police up in the flat the straps were c_cked for murder
only reason why they flapped was cause the glock was near them
liverpool dungeons where the weaponry pops
little snitches get 3 for f_cking talking to plod
we learned young, don’t snitch, it ain’t the way of the block
rather do a lifetime than watch a bro in the pods
our kid was up in linny, got an 8, do 4
just for terroring a grass they sn_tched his _rs_ in court
kyle’s lucky that we never went and packed that .44
you’re just a grass who always runs and hides behind closed doors
so don’t snitch, we do deals just to get us by
selling rocks for a meal, and you think we live nice
up early of a morning bagging up your 9 lines
cause we hustle while you’re stressed after doing 9_5s
but that’s life, that’s the way we used to living
but this life, it doesn’t really feel like i’m living
so my life, it better bring me something different
or my life, will end up where i go to prison
cause i’m stressing over money music weed and my life
smoking mics like crackheads, and fiends on the pipe
got the type of flow i only know yous can’t copy right
that’s the story of a hustle like my dough off a stripe
one take! what! one take, get me
bang
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