Boom Productions - Maniacs lyrics

[Blade Brown] The state of the game is a tragedy Everybody's licking shots, everybody's bagging B They say I wrap raw casually Real talk I really had a n***a up in casualty And nah I ain't talking 'bout the series Feel free to ask me, I'm addressing all your queries And darg I only roll with a couple bruddas Most man are clowns they remind me of the Chuckle Brothers And yeah my family's tight Just B, Dre and C, I could name a couple others But I ain't baiting up names It's bad enough I'm on the road baiting up 'caine After a hard day's work darg I'm ringing up Keisha, I'm rating that brain But nah back to the subject Most of the n***as on this rap ting are suspect You never see them on the strip late Sweardown fam I can't listen to these mixtapes They say they're all on the grind I get that peng yeah I call it the shine Because it glistens in the light This is real talk don't listen to the hype Every time I spit it's like I'm christening the mic These n***as must be smoked when they're kissing on the pipe [Giggs] Move so scatty in life Stuck in the traphouse packaging white Look to the left of me, the matic's in sight Clip's loaded up, proper smack it in right My strategy's nice Look for a hottie on a Saturday night I was looking ravaged that night Boogs kinda shocking with the Adidas stripe Got rounds in the strap co*ked I come round have your town under mad lock And I ain't come round for a slap job I come round, I'll be sounding the mac off Take all your hats off Got the whole rap game in a padlock And I ain't playing with you f*gs 'cause It could end bloodstains on your laptop Cocaine I done bagged lots Gotta link a duss head round Bagshot There's a yellow sign up on the corner Asking anyone if they saw who stabbed Bob Don't say that I'm wack 'cause You've got Hollowman playing in your rag top Plus I got your princess in my flat dog Balls in her mouth, call it a sack job [Dubz] More hype, why? Cause I f**ed your baby momma Marmite, why? Love me or hate me brudda Underrate me ima Still make my bu*ter Snowflakes in summer I'm an A-Cla** shover, not the Mercedes Couple eights I'll plug up in your girlfriend's bu*tocks Or her purse maybe Pull up in a car at the curb she'll leave I might bring a couple dargs to your territory f** the metaphors B Cheap a** n***a you'll get peppered for free As for stepping on feet? Steel-toe caps So when I step on the street I pay no tax Feds mentioning me? You don't know man 'Cause the nitties they need me like coke cans Probation don't see me, don't show fam 'Cause I'm peddling diesel, that dope man Look, now it's time that I think I get my dick polished Hit the club unshaven, Rick Ross ish Plus the coke's unshaven, big boss ish And the colt just came in, Giggs's promise So you better just hide your goods 'Cause I'm better with this 9 iron than Tiger Woods Let me show you the real meaning of time flying inside the shoobz Get your watch popped and your shine took by minor crooks