a b c d e f g h i j k l m n o p q r s t u v w x y z 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 #

letra de l's down - ngang

[intro]
leobeatz on this one

[chorus: workrate]
bakin’ off in a greenford flat
nuttin’ but packs, stacks, waps
how the f-ck could i rate these tw-ts?
they rap ’bout guns, they ain’t let that slap
you talk badness, come and back your chat
we bang our mashes and swing our nanks
you talk badness, come and back your chat
we bang our mashes and swing our nanks

[verse 1: workrate]
four in the back and i’m strugglin’ to breath
lurk on a one, two, three
four rambos and we brought that heat
beat tryna catch me a ghosty beat (bow, bow)
creep up, ching, you won’t know it’s me (no, you won’t)
don’t claim that works but they know it’s me
tryna turn man off when i open neeks
then sp jigga when i roll with this tweed (that’s bro)
free lil l, me and broski speak
we reminisce drills in coded speak
swing my rambo or blow this heat
ub7 ain’t worth these sweets (haha)
man still do it how i done it in ‘016
tryna catch me a drayton neek (d-ckhead)
reekz spoke up and exchanged his speech
when he got-got, i can’t rate that neek (snitch)
they call him drill, he ain’t taped one scene
that block bangs for a vacant street (you know)
ask these streets about my g’s
all of us load up, aim and beat (bow, bow)
[chorus: workrate]
bakin’ off in a greenford flat
nuttin’ but packs, stacks, waps
how the f-ck could i rate these tw-ts?
they rap ’bout guns, they ain’t let that slap
you talk badness, come and back your chat
we bang our mashes and swing our nanks
you talk badness, come and back your chat
we bang our mashes and swing our nanks

[verse 2: nitonb]
if you want proof, put proof in the puddin’
bet they won’t say that sh-t, two of them (bow, bow)
i done mashed me a work and we bully them
do him up, went and shot two again
if you’re wanted, i’m makin’ a bullet bend (bow)
vacant, if i see one, see ’em boogie then (bow, bow)
in and out then i might cut t’ru again
getaway, comin’ like real life boogie men (ah man)
lp got done like a z
that’s twenty-eight wounds in a man’s young flesh (haha)
triggz got bored and his right hand fled
see his friend run away, no, he didn’t stand stead
both of the twins got bored and drenched
their big bro too and their cuz got fed (ah man)
crissy got blammed and bored, he’s wet
jb got soaked and his dad did beg (b-tch)
i’ve seen ’em all run from dum-dums (haha)
i’ve seen ’em all dash, leave b-tches behind
but you know that a b-tch got gun-bucked (she did)
and they tried ride out to the hood but it flipped
‘cah they never knew bro had that gun tucked (ah man)
breezo got hit with the 9, ain’t rid with a wap
better get them funds up (broke b-tch)
[chorus: workrate]
bakin’ off in a greenford flat
nuttin’ but packs, stacks, waps
how the f-ck could i rate these tw-ts?
they rap ’bout guns, they ain’t let that slap
you talk badness, come and back your chat
we bang our mashes and swing our nanks
you talk badness, come and back your chat
we bang our mashes and swing our nanks

[verse 3: abzsav]
’round here we don’t do no cappin’, slappings (no cap)
bank my nank and see bare man cuttin’, buzzin’
them man there buzzin’
twenty-eight wounds, should’ve been in a benz (spliff)
on my life, man, it don’t make sense (no sense)
skrr and skid in a vacant ends (vacant)
and i’m down for the cause so i’m ridin’ again
man know i’m slidin’ again
man can’t sit on the fence (no way)
why you think that elmz got bored with them? (bored)
breezo already got bunned (bunned)
and he nearly got slapped again (bow, bow)
i remember that time he was hidin’ in block
and he didn’t wanna come and meet my friends
s1 and his little bro got splashed
could’ve been both so the stones of the lame, shame (could’ve been both)
both got put in their place
abzsav, man, i militant bop
with the rambo ’til i swing or ching
or with the habad to confirm it’s done
or with the habad to confirm it’s done (bow, bow)
[chorus: workrate]
bakin’ off in a greenford flat
nuttin’ but packs, stacks, waps
how the f-ck could i rate these tw-ts?
they rap ’bout guns, they ain’t let that slap
you talk badness, come and back your chat
we bang our mashes and swing our nanks
you talk badness, come and back your chat
we bang our mashes and swing our nanks

[verse 4: madmax]
are you takin’ the p-ss? (mad)
them man wan’ chat on my name like gyal
when cheffed up numerous pr-cks
i’ve lurked in your block with the four door tint (n-ggas know)
pull up, hop out, spin
i just saw a opp by the cost cutter bin
last time us man stepped ’round there
we nearly left triggz in a six foot ditch (p-ssy hole)
swim, swim, we get ’round there at awkward times (man knows)
all day we can get ’round the 1’s
but we get ’round the 3 just to score on guys (pow, pow)
and last time that i stepped on volts
me and bro nearly left him dead, not alive (dead up)
so how can they chat on the gang?
we bored at least half of their guys
apply that pressure, man do it so bad
grip on my rambz and that boy got splashed (ay, grip that)
hope you learnt your lesson little lad
broski’s juj, get that goat and then stamp (my brudda)
we step ’round there tryna turn suttin’ pack
two buck t–th in a dot, that’s a wrap

[outro]
fumez the engineer

- ngang

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