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letra de dead up - 67

[intro: houston (nasa)]
srb separation confirmed. coming up on, uh, staging the burnout of these twin solid rocket boosters at two-minutes-five-seconds

[hook: monkey]
them man don’t want smoke
them man soon go dead up
ten fat bells in the mac
my n-gg-s got the whole scene bread up
ring, ring, trap, trap
now i’m tryna get my bread up
lurk on the kerb
i ain’t going home to i’m fed up
them man don’t want smoke
them man soon gone dead up
to my n-gg-s in the bin
i told them keep your head up
smokes seasons in rudeboy just get your bread up
don’t slip or slide
slip and you’re gonna get led up

[verse 1: ld]
walking ’round with five zeds in my pouch
let four go for a whole rack i smoke one ’cause it’s drought
n-gg-s know what we ’bout, no we ain’t talking sh-t out
see a young g with no manners get live corn for that mouth
as long as i’m around i’m a come through swerving, lurking
doing 110 in the whip it’s skurring, it’s german
asap got the fiends ‘dem twerking, he’s serving
i get a whole one and i start dispersing, i’m working
i smoke one then i’m smoking karma
i’m marger, but don’t watch me ’cause i got mad armour
bare laughter, but them other guys don’t want no drama
n-gg-s don’t want no smoke

[verse 2: asap]
i need more bands so i get my bread up
in the trap for weeks got me f-ckin’ fed up
them man high but them man soon dead up
young n-gg-s got the cutters out leave a big man drenched up
i love the blade but my n-gg-s are fryers
am’ and the spliff got me moving tyres
twenty-two and that du-du-du
them man they’re liars
i got crack rocks for them ot clients
we got live corn we don’t do no fighting
this gun kicks off this skeng has violence
i got ‘uck face, she don’t act up, she don’t do no hyping
i got ‘uck face, she don’t act up, she don’t do no hyping

[verse 3 – dimzy]
ring, ring i put am’ buds in them scales
ring, ring to my young boy hit them cells
hands on the twelve on hill got a bag full of bells for the twelve
feel the dot, dot in the rucksack, operate the weapon myself
i break down packs of am’
i break down packs of cocaine
bad b-tch talking ’bout the sixes telling me she heard that we’re oj
i’m oj, i don’t play as long as the phones ‘dem ring i’m okay
me and bro long trips one-twenty on the m-way
you don’t wanna see is in the largest coats
six shortest stones in the largest pole
knife work on the back road, shave man bald
manaman fire off poles step on then ghost

- 67

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