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letra de mad about bars - tunde mcr

[part 1]
spent 20 on frames
another 50 on kettles and chains
60 plus for the whips
just imagine what we spent on the metals n’ sticks
moving grimy on a daily like posty
the only time they’ve put cheese into metal is when they’re making a toastie
no grills when i’m chatting bout some gold t–th
selective sh-t bags, need to catch up with the old beef
we’ve got heats in manny
got heats in spain and cali, even got a big mac in the dam
it’s the new era mob they ain’t f-ckin’ with the fam
hopped out the volvo with the chete’ and he ran
went from bandanas on my face doing street robs to bandanas on my jeans from all this cream prof
jumped in a 6 litre jeep, sport mode and screeched off
gettin’ racks on the regs
that’s why these yellow bags keep banging off my legs
splashing bands up in cellys, gotta watch out for the feds
i spend the extras, you spend your doe til’ it’s gone
now they want meet n’ greets but this ain’t terminal 1
yg’s l!ck crack, burst shots then they’re gone
when i’m overseas no nokia, just iphone and encro
me and d hundred bands on a coffee shop but this ain’t kenco
i know some fully on it kids, quick to let the skeng blow
got some [?] that love to let the peng go
they’ve got my friends in the pen, you know i’ve gotta send doe
when i’m boppin’ in the club got the chete’ or the snub
i make the hammer hit the powder no american grub
they say d you’re gonna blow
you’ve got the flow and told me from a q to key like a snooker player when he’s going home
you know the smack comes raw when the rocks cooking
gotta go sick at the nit when the shots cooking
cream filled to the brim, that’s how the pots lookin’
rappers get shook when they see the gang watch
all the groupies lovin’ blocka, got the bad thots
f-ckin’ hand signal to my hitter, that’s black glocks bussin’

[part 2]
1 year in the rap game so don’t compare me to none of these rappers
10 plus in the trap game so don’t compare me to none of these trappers
cos i remember back then
in the field it was only me and the rastas
my generation got the game from me
the way i was servin’ they shoulda put me in the masters
bare pain and hunger, no need for a plaster
nout left in the fridge or cupboard so i’m putting soy sauce on my pasta
back then we didn’t have no vision
stacking doe for a [?]
had to switch up my mindset
glad i did cos the doe started coming in faster
had to work myself to the top
started off as a pedal bike grafter
growing up in manny it’s mad cos there’s just bare rats and rodent
your own family and friends ain’t down for movement
they’re just down for the moment
and everyone’s f-cked in the head cos the buds too chemically potent
you would think that we’re heavy sippers the way we make lean disappear
just made my yg 6 figures and we ain’t even 6 months in the year
shh just showed me his brand new wap
these t–th look big enough for a deer
gonna run this food straight back if the bone locks and the water ain’t clear
just copped 10 pints of the drink but i ain’t gettin’ no rounds of the beer
used to think my man was a gangster, now i just think my man is a queer
i do drug runs all over the world as long as the car going into the gear
that’s fully loaded glocks up front and bare pounds of the cali in the rear
risking banged up abroad, worldwide
man can never tell me nuttin’ bout fear
and shout out mixtape madness cos this ones bound for the reload
i can change your life of a post or feature
go and ask meekz and zeeno and that ain’t even a diss my rep just holds heavy weight like kilo

- tunde mcr

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