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letra de scene smasher┃p110 - flama

[verse 1]
i don’t care who the hardest is
all i know is 9 slugs and cartridges
we got the nitties lined up like a pharmacist
keep chatting flames til’ you burnt by a arsonist
so don’t forget who started this, cos i can end it
i’ve lost friends, i couldn’t care bout friendship
i’ve gone cold in my chest, need lemsip
you can’t see me? you better go and get lenses
nowadays you can’t tell who your friends is
i remember when n0body had 10 quid, it was all nice then
friendship never came with a price then
i’m setting fire in the booth, evacuate
gotta keep coming on these tracks, ej-cul-te
before crown court it was magistrates
used to keep the nina cranked up at my grannies place
pure coke mix it with the magic flake
season up the food in the kitchen, let it marinate
he’s talking bout beef bring a burner for me
shouts out to gridz, that’s my n-gga he’ll…
3 9’s getting pressed, that’s emergency
somebody needs an ambulance urgently
these guys must be suffering dementia, forgot about the times and gun crimes in my section
coke in the blender putting pressure on the presser
you’re feeling like you’re real but i’ve never felt your texture
when it’s purge time i don’t wanna hear sorry
i’ve got the feds tryna find me like where wally?
i remember hard times just getting by
now my doughs self raising, getting high
man talking bout beef, i won’t let it slide, before you slip you won’t see a wet caution sign
heading down the stairs out to exercise
yeah certain man are big but they can exercise
i’ve seen suspects turn victim
shot’s had him running with his darg, tintin
i ain’t playing black ops or no fifa
on the field, catch shots like a goalkeeper
i ain’t playing black ops or no fifa
on the field, catch shots like a goalkeeper
[verse 2]
he’s acting like a bad boy, must’ve thought he was will smith
the smith will leave him still stiff
you can get burnt like a billed spiff
n0body needs to press my b-ttons i will switch
skinning n-ggas rep, liftin metal, lowe your gym shift
you’ll get your wig split messing with the sick kids
fam i live this
life that i witness, hood full of misfits
don’t worry bout me, mind your business
i heard that they’re trying me, i don’t even know these pr-cks
where were they when i couldn’t buy a cone of chips?
they don’t know bout burners in stolen whips
slapping’s in broad day, why you think i sold the whips?
they ain’t never seen no body but they talk about it
like joe blow i kept a straight face and walked around it
yardy j told me come with it
i was only young then, on the run for her
the streets ain’t loving nice
guns had me stuck behind the wall, poltergeist
i can tell you bout trips to the other side, slugs beating out of the nina, on my mothers life
i hit winson green prison from the road side
landed on d wing, roaches on the old side
the govs on my case, i know they’re building up a profile
speaking to my bm’s on the mobile
my son’s just called i won’t be home in a while
visiting room, the first time holding my child
danger’s on the phone, said he’s pressing up 3 z’s
call failed, receptions dead on the cz
looking at my life and opportunities wasted
enhanced with the bars, all your tunes sounding basic
times going fast but not as quick as it seems
grab the kettle, me and venom whipping kippers and beans
shaq’s in the pad, he wants some mamba to wrap, like he didn’t nearly die from a mamba attack
usb full of tracks, i’m smoking haze on the landing
throws hit the exercise, yard and the landing
poked up [?] tried to put him in surgery
they issued me a [?] then they took me off survey
from enhance to basic, time being wasted
screw came took my tv and i replaced it
i’m staring at the picture of my son then rob brought the paper with my picture in the sun
where i’m from fam the youngers don’t do religion, all they pray for is gucci’s and true religion
they had me looking over 10 on some big charges
had me stuck in the pen like an ink cartridge
bang up through the door sending lines under
psychoactive substance, sending guys under
pad got spun for the 2nd time, unscrew the plug put the tec inside
as long as i’ve got mambs i don’t need a thing
i’ve got enough macerals, i could feed the wing
just the other day i was hopping on visits
now my words are worth enough to start shotting these lyrics
so wonder when the stress stops
thinking bout the road, heading court on a sweat box
fed up of the ps so i plugged in the xbox
why would i care about gyal? i got my xbox
from b cat to c cat then i went d cat
closed conditions, came back to c cat
i ain’t talking bout snapbacks if your knee caps
£100 a bottle lid, holla if you need that
my boy spent 13 years cooking by that microwave
til’ [?] spun the wing like tidal wave
got caught with my tec and my usb
had fights in the cage, ufc
in jails [?] disease, i’ve got sickle cells
i miss being busy, now i’m missing cells
before i hit the pen, i had the road boxed
i [?] up the armed feds then i had the road blocked
nitties lined up by the phone box
i chop down and shot that white girl, joanne cox

- flama

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