Estate Life

Pullin' up in a seat Ibiza

Lookin' for Kent I'm here to beat ya

JD in the driver's seat

Goin' sick on the bend, I'm sick on the beat

And the birds out wanna play me on repeat

Come suck my dick and then I'll retreat

You said that you love me, you met me once

I went straight for dessert, so I skipped the lunch

Spin a quick verse I'm a lyric machine

Know me and the team are runnin' the streets

And when I drop bars go sick on the beat

Go sick on the rhythm, I'm bringin' the heat

I know that I flow the best

I got random birds that'll show their breasts

And then when I go sick there'll be no contest

No Fortnite ting, but I open the chest

Rip up the mic and I'm back again

And I'm on the back wheel of a KTM

Me and the boys were goin' graftin'

And were all blacked out creepin' through your ken

I seen a key for a RS3, me and the boys we scranned it easy

Put my foot to the floor, we were gone, not comin' back

Tread the roads like a F1 track

With the West Roy boys and we'll do it like that

Check that, get back

Rippin' on the mic and I'm soundin' fat check that (check that)

BD18 to the BD10, if I see a nice car, I'ma pree that ken

I'm chillin' on Sandorm Drive

Oh wait, I'm chillin' on West Roy Drive

Out tonight and we're raidin' kens

And were takin' cars like Mercedes-Benz

And I'm goin' sideways at Five Lennes

And I'm hittin' eighty round every bend

High powered kissin' my arse end

Put my belt on and I try to blend

And then the blues come on and I begin to send

This police chase, yeah, it's about to end

And I swerve a car then I swerve a bus

And then I take the corner like garna mush

Check D's on the mic and my bars are flush

Check D's on the mic and my bars are flush

I'ma kick back, they got a spliff wrapped

If they send shots I'ma hit back, 'cause I never risk that

And now I've gotta move to choose

Do it by some ears or an ounce of blues

Either way jump in the whip blast tunes MC

Then cruise cause that's how we do

It's the Bradford Crew

I don't fight that much so I fuck that shit

But if you send jabs I will duck that shit

Make pure bangers and I cook that shit

Any come for the scrap got bannged or shit

Speedos gon' past the last number

You're wantin' beef, I've come to confront you

You might catch me on a PCX

I've been writin' bars I'ma heat the decks

And then I wanna go sick on the beat and repeat

And I'm down for the beef

When I fight on the street

You know me and the four page gang

Linkin' a West Roy gang

Make that bang

(Make that bang)

On a house five I'm back on the track

Got two bad B's, their sat in the back

Come to my gaff I'm attackin' her back

I'm attackin' and rackin' and buildin' a stack

I drive cars but I don't have a license

If I see blue then I run from sirens

When I drop bars, I'm the best you know

Because I still make rhymes when the beat is silent

That's me I begin to blend

If a man pipes up, I begin to send