Grim Sickers - Mad Ting lyrics

[Intro: Funky Dee] Oi, fa**yhole, give me that chain Oi, fa**yhole, give me that chain Give me that chain or bullets'll rain [Chorus: Funky Dee] I stabbed a man's back like there weren't no thing I stabbed a man's back like there weren't no sin I stabbed a man's back like there weren't no bin Couldn't give a f** about gym Spent two bags on a hand ting Spent three four on a mad ting Pull it back like a hamstring Let off 67 on a gang ting I stabbed a man's back like there weren't no thing I stabbed a man's back like there weren't no sin I stabbed a man's back like there weren't no bin Couldn't give a f** about gym Spent two bags on a hand ting Spent three four on a mad ting Pull it back like a hamstring Let off 67 on a gang ting [Verse 1: Grim Sickers] Yeah, in the car, no tramp Buckle a belt and a nank Man know that I'm amped, spin Grim? That's mad I'm back on stuff, souls in the sky, left bodies in the mud Girl ring me 'nuff, I get uck, then dust My steeze is nuts, I'm f**ed And don't ramp me, king I'll throw man that try to set fire to the bin Cuh I spent two bills on the studio Spent three bills on the master Pull it back like plaster Silly boy, f** up the dance up I don't care if I lose, I'll be swinging at crews Black Nike tracksuit or black Nike shoes Bad and bruised, best come out the way When Grim fly through, I'll be running past you [Chorus: Funky Dee] I stabbed a man's back like there weren't no thing I stabbed a man's back like there weren't no sin I stabbed a man's back like there weren't no bin Couldn't give a f** about gym Spent two bags on a hand ting Spent three four on a mad ting Pull it back like a hamstring

Let off 67 on a gang ting I stabbed a man's back like there weren't no thing I stabbed a man's back like there weren't no sin I stabbed a man's back like there weren't no bin Couldn't give a f** about gym Spent two bags on a hand ting Spent three four on a mad ting Pull it back like a hamstring Let off 67 on a gang ting [Verse 2: Funky Dee] You're a son of a who*e, nah, son of a snitch What you gonna do when the 45 hits? I'll make you die slow like you're dying of age What you gonna do when the big pump lick you in the face? Bullets'll come down, bullets'll rain Bullets'll go through you and your mates You ain't ready for my rage I told you before, you ain't ready I'm blam your head, shoulders, knees and throat I ain't playing around when I've got the chrome What you gonna do when you see the big chrome? Kick it, boom, I'll aim at your dome Or aim at your holder I'm on the roads and you're in a coma You better know, bruh, you're not a soldier You have doja, [?] what I does to a doja [Chorus: Funky Dee] I stabbed a man's back like there weren't no thing I stabbed a man's back like there weren't no sin I stabbed a man's back like there weren't no bin Couldn't give a f** about gym Spent two bags on a hand ting Spent three four on a mad ting Pull it back like a hamstring Let off 67 on a gang ting I stabbed a man's back like there weren't no thing I stabbed a man's back like there weren't no sin I stabbed a man's back like there weren't no bin Couldn't give a f** about gym Spent two bags on a hand ting Spent three four on a mad ting Pull it back like a hamstring Let off 67 on a gang ting