Feltz Artist - SlumpDown lyrics

Run up on man with Stan till you get smithed Let the bangers off, no piff Wrap you up, no spliff No car but I get around quick Me and my dawgs we bark commands Horse on my head, the ralphy brand No beach around here but i still move sand I wanna reach my nans age i wanna reach grands They say i got a heart of a stone But ill turn your heart to stone when i pop the chrome Lower your tone, no phone Out here to get dough, no scone When the ting hits your feel the impact Have your wig looking tomato when it splats Were the dawgs surrounded by the cats That want the sh** that we have Were have your never dancing no rave Ill tsunami over you big waves I ain't talking waterguns when you get sprayed IM on time like a train with no delay No Chris Brown when i take your girl for a beat Get her breast out have her page 3 Then she's fully naked like a p**n magazine I share my portions feed her to the team Im out to get cream, not whipped Ill leave you in a wreck, not shipped Open your insides like im getting out the pips Im eating bacon but running from the pigs I ain't talking sweets when my star-burst Bang Bang leave him in a Hurst It ain't Sunday pray day in a church Like a car game im always first I ain't talking voodoo when i say i curse Your girls giving me treatment the s*utty nurse Take half of your area like Cyprus cos off Turks I ride fresh to the shooobz like im in a merc Ive got lines but i ain't a sniff-head Ill put the hammer to your f**ing sledge Your still a chip, im a wedge I grow food, no fruit and veg Im born a ledge no side Get your channel cut off no sky Move food about birds eye Thats the reflection of me in your birds eye Move to fly, helicopter Get the 33 let of ten like a Nokia I ain't talking Fanta when it pops at ya When i do moves i do proper stuff No car jacker, but im a booster I get around the farms no rooster f** a cadet im a trooper Girls undo my zip like a scooter I put in cream for my cake Im like a cobra but i ain't a snake Sneaky sh** cos of the jakes Your get ghosted like a bike with no brakes You pricks are fake, like the market Aim my ting at my target No flint when i spark it Leave blood-stains on the carpet Rob you for your horse like im jacking Ralph But what im packing will be in your mouth And i ain't on about a pack-lunch Something that will make your insides crunch And that ain't no crunches I ain't had a move for week so im hungry So im patrolling the streets for the munchies If you don't co-operate your go over without the bungee They know me as feltz so ill give you tips I don't like your mistake, your full of sh** I dont need a trampoline when iFlip I ain't on about trees when iStick