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letra de lightwork freestyle - yanko (bwc)

[intro]
writing statements, that n-gg-‘s mistaken
my teams established, rated, most hated in the hood, it’s blatant
get round there, it’s vacant, frustrated ’cause i really wanna tape it
they act for then net but sh-t gets ments when we flip the script like we’re pages

[verse 1: yanko]
if i step round there with the turner, i pray they don’t sing like tina
free vando locked for the murder, shh got hit by the front of the beamer
three man dropped so the paigons teamed up, they all still blow like tulisa
we don’t see gun smoke in the gaza, unless it’s us tryna test our beaters
we eat up the beef like burgers, saw five guys now they’re covered in sauce
my n-gg-s are akhi, don’t f-ck with pork, how could the pigs try get ’em to talk?
fat boy was on life support but really and truly he should’ve turned corpse
i’m blackwater of course, before ford squad we was hopping out fords
we score goals on all of these gems, kiz in the field like zenit
he ain’t tryna play no footy, he’s corning man with all these pellets
i wanna beat this wap more than her, now this beanie’s getting jealous
ran up on them and they tried exit
then he left red like it’s that time of the month for a b-tch
free reeko, he’s a trapper, could’ve built a house with all of these bricks
forest gate, that’s my f-cking strip, the opps don’t come, they know it’s a slip
bucked that brudda at dixy, wanted to eat but he ate my ching
he wanted to eat but he ate my ching

[verse 2: y.cb]
they do it for the snap and views, i’m different, i do it ’cause i got my bruce
back out my blade, ching down my man, they think it’s steg, they don’t know who to shoot
back that strap then blaze, fry man, tell bro “make sure you twos that yute”
rise that stick when the street needs cleaning, the pigs know this ain’t no average broom
this ain’t no average broom, dottys and handtings all spill juice
i spy on them, then leave no clues, do it in twos when shh got chinged
hold up, let me not chat too loose, custom juice got spilt, it’s blatant
hmp, that’s plugs in faces, riding basic’s got man mad, facts
i pray that i buss them cases, no cap when we shoot at faces
bro boot that mac, better dodge that lace, if not, better sing them graces
bro boot that mac, better dodge that lace, if not, better sing them graces
how many times have we rid on paigons? dy in the ride, that’s satan
can’t believe that i’m beefing —–, writing statements, that n-gg-‘s mistaken
my teams established, rated, most hated in the hood, it’s blatant
get round there, it’s vacant, frustrated ’cause i really wanna tape it
they act for then net but sh-t gets ments when we flip the script like we’re pages

[verse 3: yanko]
you’re gonna look like you’re pinning when we inject this metal in your veins
it was me, zk and stains, i put haribo’s in the candy cane
don’t get caught in your ends or yard cah you’ll be —–
we’re the reason your ends is flames, we’re the reason you’re taking chase
there’s like four man pack, how the f-ck could you be on chattings?
’nuff times i saw st splashing, splashing, swinging his yank erratic
in the field like crystal palace, all of the goals that happened
match day we used to go to the 6 but we used to go house for target practice
pull up, they all get smoke like bensons, ride for your friends, stop k!lling pedestrians
gangs got straps like lesbians, why you think i was on the wing like lennon?
melo’s in jail still throwing up 7th, the judge just gave him a nine plus seven
if i stick man up broad day, i don’t need credit, just sn-tch man’s pendant
thirty man ran from four and twenty peds cut from five
i was sixteen with a .32 on me, r said bang it if the paigons rides
i had the shiny bells inside, a year before i got grabbed with the 9
i had a nine times two in draws, the young boys active, letting ’em fly

- yanko bwc

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