Voice Of The Streets

Skeng

The Voice of the Streets

Legendary stuff

Look

Sitting down thinking 'bout a master plan

Tryna see half a ticket, started with half a gram

Started on a pushbike, now I give Versace grants

Started broke, now I'm on this cake like marzipan

Big budget, wrist flooded like the Titanic

My Rolex Swiss made but my nines Spanish

Whip German, foot down then I might crash it

I don't do black magic, I got white magic

Bad habits, keep a pump like I'm asthmatic

Watch your money pile up like mad traffic

Fly pack rapid, hood full of crack addicts

Mathmatics, bag on my trap jacket

Asian dons in Saint Laurent, my paper long

You're taking from the same ones you're hating on

I hit rock bottom, now I can't stop shopping

Got me stepping on squares like I'm hopscotching

Mob bosses, like eighty on my wrist, that's a hot topic

I pop Cris, I don't pop watches

I cop cribs and I cop drop whips

I cop shh, make someone in the block lock it

Been doing this for donkeys

Ten grand on Bond Street, top floor en suite

Remember I was broke, I was renting out a room then

Turned a two and a Q into a Q-M

First came the coupe Benz

Second and the third, both the roofs went

Half a mil' later, what have you spent?

I ain't gotta try akhi, fly in a Nike trackie

Gave the ends dubs just like Dappy

So fuck a dead offer 'cause my bread proper

Red leathers, red notes and red lobster

Fuck the red eye, I'll get a red Ferrari

All my red bottoms cost a Z a Charlie

My nuts hang, balls are enormous

Diamonds look like they're flawless

Hood I grew in the poorest

Push the fluid in the purest

In some Christian Dior kicks

Don't worry 'bout my ting, I can fuck your bitch

All these old niggas, been airing them

Fishscale in the water like the aquarium

If that Prezi under twenty, I won't wear it then

No readies for these jezzies, we don't care for them

High flyers, my youngers are some live wires

Big shank, mask on like Mike Myers

Yeah, my body's still young but my mind's tired

I just make sure my rent's paid and my nine fires

Gotta stay around mine 'cause they might try us

Keep trying 'cause they say God likes triers

Man dying 'cause they slide like bald tyres

I don't really trust man cah they're all liars

True, I ain't never had a nine to five

I just cleared packs in my Air Max 95s

Whipping and rapping like Yianni Mies

Free all the guys in the cage like five-a-side

When you come home just acclimatise

A quiet life is a happy one

A life on the edge is a scatty one

Thirty-six Zs of the snappy one

Busy everyday, that's why I'm looking so slim

Did more kilos in the trap than I did in the gym

Throwing up bricks like I'm hitting the rim

Now I gotta be careful what I throw in the bin

That's a whole lot of paraphernalia

Whole lot of problems arise when you're stacking this paper

Phone flight mode when I'm bagging this weight up

Thirty minute time out, snapping this wafer

Back in the day, uh, just wanted to drive a Range

So I hit white balls like I'm at the driving range

Never giving up, man, my drive insane

Whizzing through the wedge, G, I drive deranged

Louis V shades 'cause I like the frames

Five hundred pound just to hide the pain

Time flying by like flying planes

Live for a purpose, don't die in vain

Hella diverse, been high and low

Mummy know only thing on my mind is dough

Got my mind on racks like drying clothes

I got unidentified flying Os

I got alien OG in the ashtray

Got shooters like Kylian Mbappé

Whip yayo like eggs in the mayo

And the crack made a better comeback than De Lio, hmm