Krept & Konan - F**K Them lyrics

[Hook: Konan] When fake love goes true colours show and They know there's no f**ing With my team (my team) My team (my team) [Verse 1: Yungen] Krept and Konan put me on and I took that sh** through the roof Ducking round in that drop-top, blame that sh** on the Goose If I ever lied in a bar, it's probably your girl in the truth Yeah I went from selling Charlie to Radio 1 spitting fire in the booth Got some real motherf**ers around me, but I never call no names My big bro taught me one thing, don't mix the road with the fame You n***as be calling names, keep thinking that I'm a side man Till my circle catch you on the mains and blow off sides when I lines man (ah) But f** that, I went from the road to the stages Me and Stryder went "bonjour", next year I might buy me a spaceship Me, I'm from the hood, where those skinny n***as are blazers Now it's skinny jeans and blazers and that sh** ain't f** my status I've been putting on for them n***as, them clowns better keep in check Their debit cards ain't saying sh**, without I them man are in debt I stay scheming for cash dog, you pussies ain't got no rep So before you call my name, boy go get yourself some respect! I'm out here [Hook: Konan] [Verse 2: Krept] (Tally) f** them n***as! Nah real talk, f** them n***as! If you ain't Kone or Yung or affiliated Then f** you, n***a! I can't stand theses industry dons Somebody I'm due to cause an injury on I'm sick and tired! Think the sick get tireder Ah man Krept's on fire! Foot Locker in Brixton riots Hungry for this, can't see what a diet is I told my driver "lead me to Wireless" When these fake n***as say 'wah gwan' to me I just sigh, I need a psychiatrist f** your rep! Nah n***a n***a f** all that! Get off my dick off s** on that Grab cash and get your man checked Bragging about your bread and get your bag-get Hating n***as, you can s** your mum! When you know what kinda s*uts I want A brown skinned b**h with a big back That's the hunchback of Notre Dame f** it I'mma get my roman on You said you're fire, n***a, false alarm who*es want to come round for an orgy f** Tesco's, my house where the who*es meet I'm from a place where n***as with sticks roll No computer gangsters Dell hit you with a mac, brains on the windows Now the PC tryna find some info f** with my team [?] the folks Stamp you out, turn my Nikes into Louboutins You already know what the goon is on Well get pear shaped for the fruity don [Hook: Konan]