80's Swag — текст песни

Yo, who the leaders of the new school?

They’ve got me teaching old tricks to these new fools

Old Remington and some new jewels

And when the pagans pay me homage, I’m like «cool, cool»

Cause they respek it, halfway crooks never mek it

They never had a beef that I deaded

Live life with a death wish, smoke for breakfast

Riding for the same cause that Ghetts did

Cause I’m a rebel, selling green since a teen

18 to 21, it was pebbles

Top of my class without a medal

I was training up in the mountains, you went to the meadows

Away in a manger

Said I’m the boy king, I’ll still sell an eighth to a stranger

Always alone, I’m a ranger

Said I’m comfy on my ones, the only friend I know is danger

I ain’t a maniac

But certain situations could’ve made me die

Made me grind, made me stack

Made me overthink like a braniac

Lost my way, made it back

Thoughts crossed my brain that could’ve made me mad

We ain’t no basic lads, no paper pad

Got that 90s style and 80s swag

My baby mother says I’m immature

She four years younger, what the fuck she think I’m with her for?

She told me get the hell out, I’m packing, I need a minute more

Hold on, you say you want me gone, so who you cookin' dinner for?

Mmm, that looks good, I’m staying

When I said you weren’t a good cook, I was playing

Come here, give me that good good, what you saying?

Don’t tease me, let me push my hood all the way in

Sometimes, I wanna argue for the make up sex

Need it in the morning, or I’ll spend the whole day upset

If I’m the man in your dreams, then you should wake up wet

I’m surprised not one of our neighbours really hate us yet

Yeah, they say the walls have ears, babe

There’s four walls and they all can hear, babe

I say the ceiling has feelings

It must be lean, cause the smoke’s right beneath it

Weed, so loud

I just hope these walls can keep a secret

Even though there’s no award for the speechless

I walk the walk, and ruin floors with my sneakers

Normal procedures, late night studio

Ordering pizzas, Jerome should be over the moon

What the fuck’s he complaining about?

It’s a privilege recording this G shit

Book an appointment with a nail technician

If you ungrateful motherfuckers wanna see tips

When I say I’m going ham

Fam, I don’t mean E6

Wear my heart on my sleeve

Don’t make me the weakest, it makes me the realest

Music’s based on emotion, believe it

So this beat’s getting the emotional treatment

I’m digging deeper than the average rapper

I see murders getting captured on camera, right in front of me

A man getting stabbed in his bladder, right in front of me

Youts getting badder and badder, right in front of me

You wanna be the man in the manor? Good luck with that

You’ll probably get killed by the same youts that looked up to man

Diced in the alley when police left

These kids’ll leave a nigga lying in the street, dead

Sometimes it’s like a Western in the east end

Grandad said if we ain’t fighting with our fists then

We should be categorised as weak men

But, you see when everyone’s got a strap

Cause everyone’s got a strap and my nigga

Just bought another two, and I can’t tell him he don’t need them

Defence, nobody’s sitting on the fence

We ain’t getting caught in a crossfire in these ends