67 - Live Corn lyrics

[Chorus] Live corn in my gun f** with the 6 get bun No point tryna run M got the Mac and it's sounding like a drum Tryna lock the whole city Only real n***as f** with me Shout my n***as from the 86 But 674 run Bricky I don't rap cause I'm tryna get a deal I'm still out here tryna eat a meal I've spent whole nights lurking in the field Ask them other n***as, they know how sh** feels Bare skrr skrr, I feel it through the wheels 3 litre ding-dong skidding round the hill Swammy on deck and we're lurking for a k** If suttin get got I know my n***as won't squeal [Verse] Say they want war n***a So I roll around with that 4s n***a Screaming 67k? Ima smoke your a** to a 4 n***a M rolled up and he's buzzing Screaming out 'if he's an opp then we bun him' We ain't RB we don't know about running I said n***a we don't know about running I'm still slanging these O's, running through hoes I don't do friends cause I bang with my bros Phoned G said that he's bagging with Slows Told him 'bring a coke can I'm a let it explode 67 over everything Break packs, double up, bring weapons in Look, till suttin dead we ain't settling If he's running with the opps, man'll pepper him True, I ain't running with no jokeman He held it in his face when I smoked man 20-suttin times when I soak man If you claim 15 you're a jokeman I ain't never been friends with them pagans You can hold shots too if you're Leyton Big Stizzy been writing some statements Tryna lock a real n***a in the cages I hit a n***a in his face My n***a hit a n***a in his back Tryna score every time that we ride Someone tell these motherf**ers 'don't lack' I was in the party flexing with a yat They know I had a suttin in my bag I was drunk off the yak Opps never came though cause they knew they're getting slapped They had a real n***a locked in the cage I rolled a burn while I thought about my case Like, 'how that n***a snitch?' Who am I kidding man, than n***a from the Brix I was outside tryna get rich Tryna put 65 bags on my wrist Till these damn jakes put cuffs on my wrists Had me locked down in Wandsworth feeling like sh** n***as screaming '674 stabbed this, and 674 corned that' I'm like 'b**h n***as get off our dick' 674's tryna get rich in those traps I was up in Thameside reasoning with facts No amnes' had me stressing out my plaits n***as owe p's then they better run it back Feds kicking in doors and we're tryna get back Link SJ, everything blessed He buss me with the loud amnes' for my chest I remember nights I was in there with the Tec Tweeting all my n***as 'I'll be home in a sec' Skinny motherf**er but I'm bigging up my chest When they see me out on freeflow n***as show respect Like they know all the f**ries I kept up All that knifework and show 'em what the skeng does [Chorus] Live corn in my gun f** with the 6 get bun No point tryna run M got the Mac and it's sounding like a drum Tryna lock the whole city Only real n***as f** with me Shout my n***as from the 86 But 674 run Bricky I don't rap cause I'm tryna get a deal I'm still out here tryna eat a meal I've spent whole nights lurking in the field Ask them other n***as, they know how sh** feels Bare skrr skrr, I feel it through the wheels 3 litre ding-dong skidding round the hill Swammy on deck and we're lurking for a k** If suttin get got I know my n***as won't squeal