LD (67) - PCD (Pull Up, Crash, Dash) lyrics

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LD (67) - PCD (Pull Up, Crash, Dash) lyrics

[Verse 1: LD] 67 that's nothing but violence Banged corn on all of the opps, now we're warring the Trident Feds had me in the bush with the box, phone rang had to fling it on silent I took a little loss that day, KMT I'm still out here grinding Everywhere I go gang go, you know that there's a whole load of smoke Got ounces, ninas, basically LD's sitting on a whole load of cro Used to ride with the Mac on my bro, like come we just woosh him and go Now we sit in the ride with the chopper, but that there's a whole different pole That there's a whole different corn Live corn might lick of your arm, now a n***a wish that he weren't born Don got licked in face, now he talks to the feds, how you know what you saw? Got skengs on the block but there's never enough so you know we need more SJ got five for the 4, that's two years and a bit more The whole block's on obbo We do what we can everyday, the feds might grab us tomorrow The opps can't chill on their block everyday cause they might catch a hollow I had my mash but I hit my man with a skeng that I borrowed I fed my man a hollow [Chorus: Dimzy] It's been trap season My n***as make the skengs dem crash like 'give me a reason' The opps dem talk to the feds, why the f** are they cheating Way too much leaking 67 don't talk to the feds, we don't do no speaking Pull up, crash, dash, on your back left bleeding Pull up, crash, dash, on your back left bleeding 67 don't talk to the feds, we don't do no speaking Pull up, crash, dash, on your back left bleeding [Verse 2: Monkey] I rock with the 6, get dropped for a 6 On your side like a pitch, leave holes in your bruh like he was a ditch Do the most to get rich, slang Bobby or Whitney cause yeah that's my b**h Old yardie man snitched, had my dons in the can that sh** was a stitch Karma's a b**h, told Conz I can't go jail but I landed in nick Lord knows I was pissed, but I linked up with Skeng and he showed me the clip New day, same sh**, make p's on the strip Make p's or we flip, 7 bags for a box break it down into bits M that's my bro, them opp n***as know 25's in that pole Give a round of applause, watch n***as drop I ain't clapping at shows Woosh woosh then we go, get smoked like the loud that I roll up and blow f** tryna be low, tryna branch out the hood like Chief from the Glo All I wanted was dough now I'm getting it normal, fast money or slow Conversate with the bro what the future gon' hold I be burning on cro Make a boy hot like a 12 from the hollow tip shells that me and them load That spinner be chrome, if I got two shells I'm hitting your dome [Chorus: Dimzy] It's been trap season My n***as make the skengs dem crash like 'give me a reason' The opps dem talk to the feds, why the f** are they cheating Way too much leaking 67 don't talk to the feds, we don't do no speaking Pull up, crash, dash, on your back left bleeding Pull up, crash, dash, on your back left bleeding 67 don't talk to the feds, we don't do no speaking Pull up, crash, dash, on your back left bleeding [Verse 3: Liquez] I put my life on the line for the gang 674 that's my gang Real talk I'll shoot any man If I hear that they're onto the gang Take trips to the Brix with the scram And I'm loading up 6 in the scream Yeah boy, cause I do it, cause I can That gun go click clack bang Bang. Bang, bang, bang, bang, bang Nah, my gun it won't jam I'm high off the gas and I'm high off the am I'm smoking some loud with the gun in my hand Yeah, with my gun in my hand, I'm really insane so they know about man So let a n***a try me, and see wagwarn with my gun in my hand Can't wait till the day, that they let loose all my k**ers in the can I hope to God, that my n***as on remand that day soon land Big smile on my face, with this paigon's blood that I've got on my hands So don't ever slip, I've got man around here and them man are all mad So don't ever flex , I've got man around here and them man will all grab So don't act bad, I've got youngins 'round here them youngins so sav I said don't act bad, I've got youngins 'round here them youngins will stab [Chorus: Dimzy] It's been trap season My n***as make the skengs dem crash like 'give me a reason' The opps dem talk to the feds, why the f** are they cheating Way too much leaking 67 don't talk to the feds, we don't do no speaking Pull up, crash, dash, on your back left bleeding Pull up, crash, dash, on your back left bleeding 67 don't talk to the feds, we don't do no speaking Pull up, crash, dash, on your back left bleeding [Verse 4: Asap] n***as don't wanna get shot, they're scared (cowards, gems) 67k what where? 67k what where? (where they at, gems) Pull up, crash dash, free Smokey Jack Free the conspiracy gang 6 shots in that spin, suttin like greedy man'll go mad Headshots of course, opp n***a lack get his forehead whacked Then it's back to the trap I'm talking racks, rocks of crack And dark is wrapped f** the feds they took my bands, it's time to make that back I've got shooters around, that itch, when a new skeng lands Might pull up in a van, with a whole heap of man Like let's go ham Said they ain't never seen me in the field, the other day they ran [Chorus: Dimzy] It's been trap season My n***as make the skengs dem crash like 'give me a reason' The opps dem talk to the feds, why the f** are they cheating Way too much leaking 67 don't talk to the feds, we don't do no speaking Pull up, crash, dash, on your back left bleeding Pull up, crash, dash, on your back left bleeding 67 don't talk to the feds, we don't do no speaking Pull up, crash, dash, on your back left bleeding