Italy - Aj Tracey

Bare man wanna watch face

They say I’m too hood, so the scene ain’t feeling me

What don’t kill man makes you stronger

Right now, fam, ain’t nobody killing me

They don’t like my expensive garms

I’m meant to look broke, real talk, are you kidding me?

They hate that my garms are Italian

And my peng ting that I’m with’s from Italy

Bare man wanna watch face

They say I’m too hood, so the scene ain’t feeling me

What don’t kill man makes you stronger

Right now, fam, ain’t nobody killing me

They don’t like my expensive garms

I’m meant to look broke, real talk, are you kidding me?

They hate that my garms are Italian

And my peng ting that I’m with’s from Italy

White girl, Carmen Electra

When I reload off a BBC

That’s a big boy crop, then I get a one extra

Nine bars get bruk down, fuck a tester

God forgive me if I buss my nine

Bar, that’s a likkle reference to Skepta

Still oh so comfy in my sector

Cause I still will eat man, I’m Lecter

And when I spray bars, it’s a lecture

Youths get gassed in the club off of nectar

Outside, got a non-musical don with

The Nikes on and the cocked arm in the Vectra

Behave yourself, Konan’s adlib

Your dons don’t back you, never backed it

If I ever back the ting and then clapped it

I bet your squad will leave you like your dad did

White girl, Angelina Jolie

Sitting in the cut, my dargies roll weed

Start with the Q, then dance an oz

Peng ting off the shit, she banged a whole G

Nah, nah, nah, can’t step to my team

Trinidad boy, that’s T&T

I’ve seen a real skengman sitting on the porch

Shotgun and white tee

It ain’t nuttin' for my nigga to holla my uncle

Tell him come down with the OG

When I say OG

I don’t mean Jendor, Ruger, Little Dee, Blacks or P

I mean the Bruckshaw, gat’s in his jeans

Fly through quick, gat’s in his jeans

Call up the squad, MTP

And tell them 'bout beef, family, it’s peak

Bare man wanna watch face

They say I’m too hood, so the scene ain’t feeling me

What don’t kill man makes you stronger

Right now, fam, ain’t nobody killing me

They don’t like my expensive garms

I’m meant to look broke, real talk, are you kidding me?

They hate that my garms are Italian

And my peng ting that I’m with’s from Italy

Bare man wanna watch face

They say I’m too hood, so the scene ain’t feeling me

What don’t kill man makes you stronger

Right now, fam, ain’t nobody killing me

They don’t like my expensive garms

I’m meant to look broke, real talk, are you kidding me?

They hate that my garms are Italian

And my peng ting that I’m with’s from Italy

People love to call me ungrateful

Say that I sin to live, and that’s hateful

Primary, I couldn’t afford kicks to play ball

Now my outfit costs 32 8 balls

I’m balling, literally balling

Left wing balling at eight o’clock in the morning

Rest of the time, I’m trapping

Or I’m out in the studes, late night, I’m rapping

I’m a producer when it comes to the rambo

But it ain’t hooks or samples like stabbing

Sending out the love to the thotties who put back in

I be beating up the pussy then sending 'em backpacking

Looking at my hoodie and shoobies, I get cash in

I ain’t onto smashing, I’m saving and man’s stacking

Cuh I’ve got some brothers that are sitting in the pen

And been bashing

You’re dead, flow’s dead, your crew’s dead

Girl’s dead, lines dead, your food’s dead

No comeback, RIP

Stop grime, don, you’re better off on R&B

I’m a menace, you can’t black ball me

I call blunts and order up the pack for me

You’re a lettuce, any sideman with a fruit loop fetish

Plans for the summer or Monaco, then it’s Venice