This is the final leg, my G
Are we still alive or dead, my G?
This fire is gonna spread, my G
You're gonna need your bed, my G
It's shot like copper and lead, my G
I ain't got time for a beg, my G
Real, I'm not a bootleg, my G
Bun what who and who says, my G, yeah
It's all popping
Cuh I'm that guy but them other man are nothing
Don't wanna see me dropping cuh Pops ain't stopping
If they bring a bit in, then I'll bring a lot in
Got a brand new pattern like I just went shopping
But I never got any of my pot from shotting
Coco came to clean up the game
Like I bought the dustpan, the brush and the mop in
Really going in, my ting ain't flopping
Cutting man out like I'm about this cropping
Anybody thinking I'm a one-hit wonder
I'm telling 'em "oi" cuh I've got more fire dropping
Heard my ting on the radio booming
No airtime for you, ain't that shocking?
You and your crew are on a joke ting
But I'm tryna hang up plaques like a Christmas stocking
Credits
Writer(s): Thomas Bell, Leon Anthony Riley
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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