Single / Track

The Old Estate

Pete & Bas & M24•Official Audio (YouTube API)

Lyrics

Yeah, you know me son

You know my face, you know my name

The packs got sold

And I got more than paid

Yeah, you know me son

You know my face, you know my name

I came from nothing

Now the whip's got custom plates

The packs got sold

And I got more than paid

Still living on the old estate

Had to lie low to avoid them jakes

Still living on the old estate

Even though it's hot (yes, yes)

Not for the opps (no)

I'm talking the fucking cops (jakes)

Local shots, I did it all bait at their local shops (I did it)

Main Brix, hid a thing on my waist (yes)

What you know about a local bop? (What you know?)

Are you widdit or not? (Are you widdit?)

I did it, skidded, I'm off (woo!)

In the trap making prof off charlie (yes)

Now I'm in the booth like Charlie Sloth (fire in the booth)

I got my Rollie on, take that Carti off

She gave mе sloppy slop, she a narty thot

When I let that bang, it ain't a party pop

Yеah, they know my face

They know my name, they know my spot (they do)

Yeah, they know where we hang (yes)

But they don't circle that block (what?)

Cah they know what's good for their health

They don't wanna end up lost (oh man)

I gotta stay working, working (yes)

Cah I don't wanna end up lost

The packs got sold (yes)

Then I got more than paid (rappers)

Dragon pull off the L

You know I got more than waved (high as fuck)

Shave-shave, swing it (yes)

Tryna ching it

Approach with caution

Cah you might just end up swimming

Look (come on then) the old boys winning

He's giving lip then I might just chin him

Grab the wheel then the axel's spinning

I've been in this game from my hairline thinning (it ain't no joke)

Countless drillings

Blood's still thicker but the drink keeps spilling (yeah)

Pouring a pint on a Friday night

We're them old school villains (oh yeah)

Couple yanks tried biting the UK style but that's fine, it's blessed

I can't dodge no bullets, I wrap my chest in a Kevlar vest (yeah)

Got an arsenal down in south, got a pig farm out in west

So just drop one text, fly down the M25 no stress (woo!)

Yeah, you know me son, you know my face

You know my status (you know my status)

So just shut your mouth

'Fore I put your face on the front of the papers (yeah)

I've got the deals and I've got them flavours (nice)

Got a grow next door

You know I ain't got no neighbours (nah)

And I'm talk of the town

And I'm known to the gavers

And they've been poking around

Had to ditch that phone

And I chucked that bing in the back of the Rover

Never pulled over, foot flat down

And I can't drive straight 'cause I ain't that sober

But I'm a violent man

I cook rocks in pots (yeah)

And smash heads with pans

Knock knock, who's there

I came to kick your front door down

Ping pang pow, I laid a man down

Working the block like clockwork

Out in the sticks with dust in a pot

Like Gordon ram in a car

That's another man rolled in a fag

Grab that man by the necklace

Phone got robbed for the line

Texting his number, like look call this one next time

I came from dirt and it all got dirty

Make cash in a burnt out box in Brixton

And I made big, but I still want more

More time on the roadside meant more moolah

How could a man just let that go?

Put in the work and the packs got sold on a mobile phone

Get rolled in a fag, get poured in a pint

Get sent back home in a black bin bag

Coulda just left it, coulda went walkies

But big Bas brought two toe tags

Both hands on her back when I smash it

We don't make love, we make magic

She was speaking Spanish

Got me singing love songs in traffic

Yeah, you know me son

You know my face, you know my name

Now the whip's got custom plates

And I got more than paid

Still living on the old estate

Had to lie low to avoid them jakes

Assembling your AI-powered music player

The Old Estate

Lyrics