Testo Better Days - KO
Testo della canzone Better Days (KO), tratta dall'album Fine Line
It's KO, I put my all in it for my set
Want the opps dead so bop with cheffers and cop skengs
Many hot steps, would've been stressed if it had gone left
Could've gone pen, dodged some birds, missed the long stretch
Nerds get burst for sittin' down on fences
Been squeezin', but we still seekin' vengeance
I see the sense from inside it, outsiders say it's senseless
Need Ps for machines, it's expensive
So I hate it when we lose a tool
Give her dough to keep it in her home and she don't juice at all
When I phone her for the beat, it ain't a booty call
Load up rises, heater, if they see then you're due to fall
More time I'm in the studio, still run the risk of losin' all
Since bro died, things have been unusual
R.I.P. Shegz, he really glued us all
I got taken by jakes on the day of his funeral
Feds sayin' I been wanted three months
I'm sayin' that I ain't been runnin'
I was stayin' in my house, and they ain't been comin'
They waited 'til that day to nab me just to be fuckery
Found some stains and some licks to be studied
Might change plates and go look me a body
Once you jump in that chord, leave your fear and your worries
Slang light on the bujj, and then came along robberies
First crop I ever robbed, it was hangin'
Front door popped, then we ran in and bagged it
Believe bro, left his phone in the attic
Rung the doorbell, they let him back in to go and grab it
When corn slaps, they hide and they panic
Get done bad if we slide and you're static
Hear them talk, see 'em act, but I find that it's chattings
Put my thoughts into raps, I ain't online rantin'
First gun I ever saw was a hand ting
First gun we ever got was a.38
Young days, bro was hittin' cunch for weeks straight
I was trappin' in Hackney from Clapton to Eastway
Kept a flicky on me way before the beef came
I've never been a stingy one or a cheapskate
Make some cake and split it out, we all need plates
Good on my ones but still always in for team play
Put in for my set and feel no regrets
Need more of this bread, might get peeled for your kettle
Or peeled for your Z's, how it goes in the field it gets'ments
They don't keep it real on the net
Ain't never rid or chilled on the ends but
Wanna tell you how they feel on the web
Don't get killed for respect
Done them drills out the whip, but it's a different thrill off a ped
Clips get filled up with lead
Reekz got skill with the skeng
Shotgun's big, it sits down the leg
Get drilled or get cheffed
Dodge the bin, and I want them appeals for my friends
Credits
Writer(s): Mihai Lamasanu, Josephat Zelamula, Ntolkozo Mdluli
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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