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letra de feeling it - teeway

[intro]
mokuba
mokuba lives beats

[verse]
been missing, i ain’t feeling it
bro told me hit the bando and keep k!lling it
they took my bros, fuck the judge, fuck the silly cids
i hit the corner shop, two zanco’s, sim and chip
when i hit the lick i get thoughts of the dead
same time bro-bro sauced up a neck
i probably got to get my mind sorted a second
but [?] keeping calling again
suttin’ got tanned and i swear the cliff hangs
the weekend pops, i ain’t talking no wristband
i could’ve text out and done me a quick two
them niggas so prang they’re slapping they shit bands
and johnny text back, he said my shit bangs
but i already know, i ain’t gonna reply back
my pack half brown, half white, it’s a ice wrap
i really put work in and flew on the high flats
i should’ve never fast myself on the fast train
but we was fifteen with wraps of the cl-ss a
and now they’re gonna lie for the hookers on ig
they gave bro life and that’s why my heart ache
cah i was in cl-ss -ssaulting my cl-ssmates
and then my nigga lied, i got issues with my trust
so me, m’s hit the tizzy on spring break
i ain’t even twenty my nigga, i fling grub
fuck fist fights, you touch me, i swing this
civil’s can’t help him, watching him sinking
i’m probably with k36 or jim jibz
cah i don’t know what you other niggas are thinking
and you ain’t got five in your junker drinking
do it like mike or myth when i swing this
and suttin’ ain’t right, but i couldn’t be right
cah suttin’ got diced, a nigga just limping
my sim jam packed, i got fiends in the doorway
i tell ’em double that like i leaned on pure ye
he choking out, he can’t rave, this the powers
he been at it for hours like he’s battling a court case
catting for the sorbet
bro said i’m a rapper, i still fling it twenty fours
summertime, i’m comfortable, it’s cling up in my drawers
foot chase by the constable, they’re filling up my ward
but i still raise my hand like i’m winning an award
i ain’t [?], i got [?], everything in fashion
gold my block for dutty and stiff chapping
he ain’t on i, i know that it’s just chatting
but either way i pattern the pattern and get manage
either way i pattern the pattern, it gets sorted
i mixed the pack with magi’, i just bought it
we could’ve gone clear or clear the whole mortgage
but when they took t sav back, it all halted
tell me what you need, we got shots in a dozen
i’m sorting out my man then sorting his cousin
the hood fucked, i could’ve been at war with my cousin
then bro got life cah he tore up a suttin’
i’m painting my story like i’m dave or i’m rapman
we make bands then the askaar ‘nap gang
fucked up the mots’, dvla banned man
i need a mo’ stack like skamz and clan clan
my man ah bang, who you shaved up badman?
my nigga rella pull up on dingers with light smoke
i got ‘ed like sheeran and dave like santan
so when i step foot in the mountains, it’s no joke
i used to break weed ’till cuzzy the cook cook
so i been on the mots’, i don’t know when i’m back home
and mummy begs me, stop switching up my phone
cah she can’t get through, she panics and calls bro

- teeway

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