Feed the Streets (feat. Potter Payper)

(That's Chucks)

I'm the type to spin once and catch two on a hunch

I come way to far to forget who I was

When I was down and I was out, bro paid for my munch

So now I keep his belly full like he ate with the Klumps

We can do this on camera but I ain't with the stunts

Fuck with me, G, there ain't enough days in a month

You got time on your hands, I got time on my wrist

I go Jummah with the killers and we pray at the front

You know these London streets hot, but it's rainy as fuck

I come way too far to forget who I was

Bro was yakin' everythin' and he was givin' me cuts

So when I see his pagan he was spillin' his guts

But he never said a word how I'm livin' is fucked

I only drop mixtapes but I'm livin' deluxe

They say I'm stuck in the dirt like a stick in the mud

But I'm with bro, we investin', and triplin' up

Remember we was just chasin' man and trippin' him up

Then a random guy come and started dippin' him up

What a coincidence, I'm mental I'm fuckin' up these instruments

You weren't there you just rap about them incidents and them instances

That's the difference but we can split the differences

I know all about what lovin' from a distance is (yo)

In your struggle in your pain is where the wisdom lives (my brother, yo)

My barrel spin like a CD

Sprayed up blocks, no graffiti

Made my gun ring like EE

Had me on TV

Still servin' oil like BP

My nigga, go check my CV

I let it crash, no write-off

I'm the same niggas with the mic off

I be in the T-like nylon

Hoppin' out of foreign cars

Who thought we get this far?

No soft life, I turnt soft to hard

Came out the can like a tin

I push white like a swing

When you talk 'bout the realest I'm him

Countin' up them ones

Came out the slums, I made my gun beat like the drums

Gamblin' with big stakes

100K make your wrist ache

We ain't relyin' on no mixtape

Hoppin' out of 4x4s

Countin' money on the floor

But I can't forget the damp on the walls

I was in them cells without no toilets