100mph Freestyle x3

Yo, I love my life, but I hate it at the same time

I lost my close friend, and I'm hurtin' 'cause it's not fair

If I was still shottin' where you shot, you couldn't shot there

Said she can't stand me, someone tell her cop chairs

And how much Dior runners I got that I do not wear

Colombia's down for the thirty, and he's not scared

His wrist works, been through more whips than Top Gear

A real one's hard to find, a bad bitch is not rare

You ain't hit your opp block, but you been hittin' your girl

My P-U-B's a quarter mill in the mail

I'll make it further than you, why? 'Cah I'm willin' to fail

Even if that means sittin' in jail

Oh well, I bought a car for my little sis', a Dinger for the gang

We cut ties with niggas that sing, but it's different where you hang

Went from Corsas to Corse, but it's different in the Lamb'

I try chest shot, he blocked it, so I chinged him in his hand

No, I don't see eye to eye with them silly little tramps

I'll probably still put my blacks on with a milli' in the bank

With a milli' on my wrist, and a million in cash

I'll sleep better when I hear turned into some ash

My manager says I'm stupid for still rollin' with a scram

I hate explainin' myself and I don't think he'll understand

Got, got the same day that he was trollin' on the 'Gram

Your violations get slept on, cah you're no one in your camp

I'm top two, and it's been that, lil' bro can't fight to save his life

But with his knife, they might give you a shit bag

Might give you a bad day or give your mum bad news

My hoodie cost a bag three, my runners cost a bag two

Pussy just chat static

Fuckin' on his BM, got her breathin' like she asthmatic

Leave him with a face scar, so you can see my shank damage

He ain't worth turnin' cabbage

I can make the yola vanish, bring it back, crack magic

Four pipe, my whip fartin', can't bring Dimma Hatton Garden

Last time we did, he try pop a chain disregardin'

Niggas tryna sign out early, but I'm in regardless

'Cause if I slip one time, that could be the darkest moment

Paid fifty for my watch, I'll pay more for his head back

All my hoes holdin' grudges, 'cause I ain't givin' head back

The same day you buy it, same day you gotta test that

I ain't lookin' after yours, cah I ain't tryna be a stepdad

Been a shiesty yout way before I ever had sex, ahk

If I give you back half, then I beg you just respect that

Beg you don't call my phone like Ciian, can't get the rest back

Before major comebacks, there's always minor setbacks

If you don't grind, I'll assume nothin's what you wanna be

Hoes see me on the menu, and say "Course, that's what I wanna eat

'Course that's what I wanna beat," for me, she's a proper freak

Give me jaw and ride my dick properly

Apart from waps, I'm tryna invest into some property

And stay away from guys that think life's a game, Monopoly

One-hundred racks in jewels, you're basically the lottery

To bring my niggas on tour, they don't know what it's costin' me

Tell my AR, "Bring the woosh"

Them Rick Owen boots, the quickest way for her to shush

I already got the puss', a little pull, a little push

He started runnin' off, he only saw my bally and my hood

I got so much of it, my cousins think I've got a pattern with Celine

And that I'm lyin', when I say that I do no get it for free

You would think my watch is in jail, my AP's on the freeze

You would think her legs don't work, she's always on her knees

You would think I had no friends, I was always with the fiends

Ten, fifty, then a hundred racks, was always in my dreams

Minimum a flick knife, that was always in my jeans

My niggas not no pedophile, but he's always around a teen, seven

Out here with nothin', then you probably wanna see Heaven

Carry on, gwaan, like you don't need weapon

If Jo ever got caught, for the time, he done three cheffings

By the time he came home, it would've been P-7

Hmp's the only time I'm watchin' Keith Lem

Won't see me on WhatRappersWore in all black with cheap leathers

Really I should be in Paris, skinny fit, clean steppers

Number plates already hot, and plus we've got like three peppers

I don't wanna be in jail, phone sex, read letters

Loopz always got his gun on him, he don't need wetters

But what I need is a girl that loves me for me

Not for my VVs, or the fact that I've got silly Ps

Hit her like twice, but she is not my lover, Billie Jean

Tryna tell my youngin' that I love to stop sippin' lean

Negative to positive, that's how I made my mummy proud

Then back to negative, when they try to come outside my mummy's house

I put mummy on a flight, used to take out mummy's knife

I'm a G.O.a.t. In the 6, I put that on my mummy's life

I could never be a bum, I would've wasted mummy's time

When she carried me for nine months, she deserves a lick back

Rollie on my nigga's wrist, didn't pay for it, he licked that

Didn't pray for it, just told a pussy boy to unclip that

Nina try introduce me to some hoes in his mansion

But little did he know, CLA already hit that

Got more motion than your whole gang

Murder on my mind, I probably get that from my old man

'Course you can hold dick, but I ain't tryna hold hands

The way I fill her up, you would think she had a low tank

And no, I won't rap about no murders that I weren't involved in

They do it all the time, to me that's some joke ting

Me and Crash me the hood hot, cah we done a pokin'

Left his top red and white, like the flag of Poland

If YB was still alive, he'd need F1 plus a whole rex

I know he's up in Heaven, probably tryna make the coke stretch

Free my jail niggas, doin' pull ups, gettin' no sex

And free my opps, the ones with no canteen and no creps

A few used to diss me when I was bruck

But I'ma drop eighty on a chain to show I've leveled up

I see bro push it so deep, he got his metal stuck

The things I've got are never luck, me and her did never fuck

Yo, my next purchase gotta be a sheen with a whistle

I bet you these bullets don't tickle

If I weren't trappin, I was robbin', like Thickle

My point threes, like they could've been Skittles

I'm pullin' strings, could've done my ting with a guitar

Cheffed a boy in his back, and turned my block to Qatar

I'm in a Dawn with my day one, wishin' on a star

And a scorps, big racks, I used to re-up on a half

Confused why I never see you when it's time to ride

But always when it's time to hide

Never tell the truth, but always hear you when it's time to lie

Life's changed, I phone up my niggas like "It's time to fly"

I tell my label I'm a dripper, I don't need a stylist

Would've made her bae, but she's been runnin' up her mileage

Same way I run it up in Knightsbridge

Can't forget when I was runnin' on the night shift

Demons on my block, might leave their flicky where your eyes is

And run if you see them demons on a motorcycle with a hi-vis

CLA