Lightwork Freestyle, Pt. 2 - Smoke Boys

Brigade

MKThePlug

We don’t do this shit for clout

Don’t chill in the T house, grab what I need then I’m in then out

When it’s drought, I’m still about, fly that hoe or I break it down

London town, do road for the pound

I came up off a 3.5, never had a hundred pound

'Til now, now the pinky’s frozen, wow

Look at the flick of the wrist, it’s clean like I bust it down

A man fell off, now they’re smoking brown

No more smiles, all they do is frown

Came up, they wanted man down

And they’re always pissed when man come round

They don’t want no commotion, give a man smoke when we shouldn’t be smoking

Brand new dots, got old tings, we ain’t let it beat in long, man’s roasting

I link cats with testers if I need promotion

Off map, off ends, seen bro’s in the wrecks making potions

Wax on, wax off like Sensei

Run tru packs, I can’t miss leg day

Just went shop on a segway

She didn’t wanna bang, got a re-up anyway

And they get bun, I celebrate

Why you think I got one glove like MJ?

Just link uncle for the food, no Kenke, now me and D on the M-way

At the lights, bro, press and go

Big dutty,, tear that road

Still with the goons dem, let them know

Them boy got no flow, no dough

Gorillas in the mist, we’ll tek that dough

Any type of weight, man let that go

Any type of wave, man get that dough

Feel any way then let man know

With my killers, they backward, bill it

Pray man’s winning, got the gyally dem singing

Tryna make a k-k-killing in this crazy world that we live in

Next time I go uptown, I’m spilling

Won’t stop 'til all the goons dem winning

Got the gyally in the cutest linens

Uh, uh, packages came round

Click and collect quick, I make my way round

Uh, still undefeated, get down the lane now

Get up and spray round, mans got packets for days

Packing the rave, I’m bunning the playground

When I’m broke, I’m tight like swimwear

Quick, splash splash on your bae’s face

Now my babies giving her skincare

Blacked out with a big beard

Don’t keep friends 'cause they move weird

Used to be dot, dot, dot, dot, spin, spin

And we still got a one spare

pack, man, got it in rare

Not naked, got it in bare

Tell a young boy, «Go, go there»

I ain’t got time for chasing skets, I tell her, «Cut to the chase»

See them man, I’ll back that blade like Gillette and shave his face

Put them niggas in place, man stay packing in case

Tell her, «Hold my drugs», new plug got man feeling like Ace

Dope man shoulda went circus, talking 'bout «Riding», man are some learners

Trapstars doing up purchase, stack them fifty’s like Curtis

Dem boy probably snatchin' purses, ain’t got no purpose

If broski rise them burners, gonna be service, suits and hearses

Last week, bro had to shave mans wig, make a pagan cheat on his barber

I can’t keep breaking bricks and taking risks, man’s a father

Trap phone just died but trapping ain’t dead, I just need a charger

'Til it’s on sight, see them outside, they ain’t on nada

Got cats and dogs, they’re vicious

Had to clean the dots like dishes

I love the spinner, it’s wicked

Had old friends, had to burn them bridges

Catch man slipping, he went swimming

Went crazy, cuz went fishing

Free bro, I miss him

H’s in the pen, 'nuff letters got written

Give it my best, at least, I try to

She make my meat stand up like tower

Not in Paris, gave her an eyeful

Got no, bag with eyeball

Two in the queue in Whitehalls

Push have your block exploding, light up the place like man was Guy Fawkes

With the zombies, light and dark like Michael, one Ken, one Ryu

Serve dinners like McD’s drive thru

Told bro that, «You ain’t nothing more than a hoe if you let hoe shit excite

you», fat stack like Bible

Put it online for distribution, pack getting streamed like Tidal

P need a square, only got a pound and a HP spare

That’s air, anywhere I step, know the chargies there

Tell 'em, «Don't stare», anywhere the gyaldem there, man there

Oh, yeah, war ready, man’s here

Make a man cry a thousand tears

Any kinda diss, man’s grindin' gears

Got gyally from far and near, OT bop in my Nike gear

Any kinda wear, that’s grindin' gear

Do it for my dargs and slimes in there

Oh yeah, we are the realest ting, no fear

We used to go halves on scores, what’s mine is yours

Told bro, «We got this for life», 18K, not Michael Kors

These keys don’t open doors

Clean up the streets, I ain’t doing chores

If I buss this pack wide open, that’s buds on the floor

Filled to the top with corn

Bally on, no ID, who’s that? Jason Bourne

In the T house, keep adding up

The line bangs, we ain’t watching porn

Got got like canister, tryna be the opposite of poor

TrapHouseMob