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letra de #1take (part 1) - m1llionz

[verse]
same trackie, five days, i made around seven quid
twenty-eight grams, point-one, one twenty-six
bills for the z, i paid eleven fifth
them times, i was getting extorted ’cause i never whipped
two-fifty for a box of magi’, time to get a crib
said it’s only me and asians trapping on the twenty-fifth
all them black shottas go home to their families
and spend their reload up in bicester on the twenty-sixth
all my cats are broke in january because of new year’s
i don’t send out texts but if i do, i send out two words
“i’m on”, used to do them three for twenty-five ones
active, fat scabby bags and the light’s strong
two-for-fifteen, three-for-twenty, yeah i done it all
realised the forty shots were ripping so i done it more
shoplifters ask me what i want and then they run in stores
by the time i’ve finished this bar, i’ve missed a couple calls
hit the spot once, give out pictures and it builds itself
overdosed, don’t blame me, that nitty k!lled himself
stephen dodging all my texts, gotta prove his l
i’ll still be the same me if you –
scales playing up, i gotta cl!ck tear every time
just for the stone, for the dark i got a special line
wintertime, i got the window open, tryna make it dry
five days, we linked fat craig twenty-seven times
if you hear me say “it’s a fact”, there ain’t no cap to it
landline number tryna call, know i can’t answer it
i don’t do phone boxes, you better have credit
i hate when i’m nearly at the sale and then they cancel it
hate when i’m nearly at the sale and then it’s popped down
manifesting tryna make a million off one town
phone went slow so i’m calling every contact
telling ’em i got booked for things and i’m on now
stone’s nice but the dark’s mid, you’ll be okay
nice dark but the stone’s dead, brother no way
runner said it washes alright but what’s the note saying?
’cause we know the two different ways of selling cocaine
ot, weighing up one-fives for twenty stones
i ain’t in the mood, the worker’s loose, i had to send him home
heated all my contacts that smoke but they never phoned
three for twenty-five, i’ll give you nine things for seven-o
jailhouse, they had me doing bang-up and creatine
fresh home, hand-to-hands, the cats just wanna see it’s me
where i’m standing on this tenth floor, i can see the fiends
directing them a different way ’cause i can see police
this f1 blend quicker than schumacher in pit stops
tryna locate a nightclub where ballers link up
pk dirt the same colour as ice spice
and the turk bag’s dark and heavy like rick ross

- m1llionz

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