Tekst piosenki
[Intro: Dave] Just had to kick a chick out of the studio fam, shit's nuts, fam (Hahahaha) Nah, like, in Kyle's words, fam, the truth is madder than fiction, fam It's nuts out here (Oi, ayy, write that shit down) Look [Chorus] I see a ting that I touched, tell me about talkin' stage, gotta tell her "Don't force it" Beef man, pepper and salt it, me and RJ gotta pull up, no talkin' Trap, you ain't got a rack to your name, my bro Brick Lane, we don't know about Shoreditch Rental, I never insured it, M25, gotta whip that calmly Man try beef with my dargy, Warzone ting how I come third party My little nigga can't lose that cash, I drop YGs, do it like Kehlani I don't rock Gucci or Armani, ST from ST, I can't Squash that beef like fruit and barley, still got a one black star like Kwame [Verse] Three car convoy in Sutton, my mum got matching whips with Yungen Should've made Shanei hold on suttin' but it nevеr would've worked 'cause thе girl too stubborn Young G's talking my name on the Ends Gotta tell a man "Please don't risk it" On a right day, man ah just frisk him On a wrong day, I'm gettin' man airlifted I'm in Hollywood Hills with a white Rolls Royce And a one brownin' from Compton The Lambo parked just in front Man pull up to the bumper and do it like Konshens She wanna go LV, no problem Went for the cheapest bag, that's nonsense I took a hundred bags from Barclays bank No cap, you can go and ask Ellie That one mine, Bouncing Betty The bag 4K, like a HD telly Best believe that I'm back like Nelly Chest petite with a back like jelly I'm seein' man send indirects If you wanna war man then you better be vocal My right hand got a semi, that's local And this Browning, I can't post on socials My girl gotta' be far from social I don't wanna' see her at Carni Four-double-eight in the party LBC how I nicked the Ferrari Girls say we're the littiest batch in South London and, bro, it's a fact Airport, we're going for bants I hopped out the plane, I ain't going Verdansk What you know about telling a 10/10 to keep her clothes on and moving good? I ain't on beating or misogyny, it's mahogany, I got bougie wood Look, Airbnb with the guys, it's a white man's face that I use to book Chill with the stupid looks or it's gonna be a kettle that I use to cook [Chorus] I see a ting that I touched, tell me about talkin' stage, gotta tell her "Don't force it" Beef man, pepper and salt it, me and RJ gotta pull up, no talkin' Trap, you ain't got a rack to your name, my bro Brick Lane, we don't know about Shoreditch Rental, I never insured it, M25, gotta whip that calmly Man try beef with my dargy, Warzone ting how I come third party My little nigga can't lose that cash, I drop YGs, do it like Kehlani I don't rock Gucci or Armani, ST from ST, I can't Squash that beef like fruit and barley, still got a one black star like—
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