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letra de hammers - ondrills

[intro]
‘ard, fam
now give me the intro unit, down certi’, innit?
big up your ting, know what i mean?
certified, from the first tune, certified
five million views, don’t f-ck about
back out, he-he-he
deal with the ting, man, he-he
od, eh
jazzy, eh
od, eh
yo

[verse 1]
(still cop) still cop hammers, i know why them man ain’t like man
still get boxes, eight racks in a day, that’s a night stamp
minimum six inside, be gentle, the machine’s live
had to jump out and slap that twice
i didn’t do that before i cheffed up guys (get it?)
g17 and thе cost is number second (i need that)
i’m reppin’ еleven, saw twenty-four and my gun weren’t pressing (on my life)
my kitchen’s dirty, can’t lock it but i’ll wet it in seconds (seconds)
good with my fist, visit hall, locked it off in seconds (cuzzies)
press this weapon, don’t get caught on a lack with a section (don’t do it)
got f—, did i mention?
free m.y, chased him down, left drenching (free bro)
nah, i ain’t really on fencing, i did that once, elephant castle (wetting)
i brake down buds, f-ck a pension
eight bricks sitting in a trap, for a week, that’s long
i need like ten, get gone
i’ll dash twenty-five, throw all the rest on con
i love this life but, but i don’t when i think about lattz, it’s long (r.i.p.)
who’s got dingers on the market?
i just dropped fifteen, this week started (i need that)
still in the booth, i’m a artist
p.y.c, yuck that, i’m the hardest (i’m the hardest)
i brought this spinner about
new years, young g’s went ’round firework sounds
i’ll make man sink to the ground
think that he’s out, my spartans do them rounds (uh)
i caught couple yutes on my tick list
now i got p’s, should i drop twenty bags on a hit list?
two months, me and kiz l!ck sh-t
one month later, i brought me a new stick
(pai-pai) paigons snakes, don’t back beef
rats, limp, dropping, it’s peak
young boys flee from the scene
one got a chest shot, know we said p.y.c
attack that grievously like i’m in the trap four months, that’s seventy p’s
think that i’m taking the p-ss, eight months fresh home and i dropped twenty quid on my wrist
make man run like a b-tch
been coppin’ autos, three of my hammers got grips
my n-gga gs try make him a spliff
now he’s locked on the wing ‘cah a opp got hit (got hit)
(ten-ten) ten toes, that’s silent chingings
back of the ped, visor, i’m pingin’ (pingin’)
i ain’t been broke in a minute
hmp, 30 bags, i did it

- ondrills

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