QUIETPVCK - No Hook lyrics

Published

0 374 0

QUIETPVCK - No Hook lyrics

[Verse 1: Spooks] Back when my bro had his ped He was flipping them Zs Flipping them packs on the back roads Flipping them packs on the mains These n***as wanna stunt and floss now Cuh they got roleys and chains n***a wan' look good for the hood n***a, get back in your lane n***a, get back in your lane n***a, get back in your lane My n***as get Ps in the light or the rain Don't do it for the fame, don't do it for the chains I just do it for my mates You do it for the papes I just do it for the cake, I just do it for my mates I ain't tryna move bait I ain't tryna move bait, I ain't tryna move bait None of you n***as can chat And none of you n***as got racks None of these n***as got packs And none of these n***as got cats None of these n***as got MACs So none of you scream, don't like None of you scream, don't like When you ain't got this and you ain't got that More time talk facts You said you got a MAC but no one got whack More time you'll rat Yeah, the flow's bait but I don't even rap So man tek time, I don't wanna hear that I don't wanna hear that Why you gotta lie in your raps? Just make a no hook about facts Don't, don't, don't talk about gats Just talk about playing Xbox in your flat When you're gripping that pad Holding down RT, dropping bodies on the map All, all these n***as just chat All these n***as just chat These n***as still trapping off Qs Trap star now cuh they got a gold tooth Re-upping on snaps, go re-up on food You're just a good yute I ain't crazy but n***as gotta move Go back to your bed, bring a b**h to your room But more time your b**h wants space So back to your bed and bill a fat zoot Reminisce on your tune Then holla at me when you're speaking the truth Ain't got time for these goons Me and my team, we're tryna make moves But your b**h moving loose Ucking on you or ucking on me She's ucking on Spooks She's ucking on Spooks, she's ucking on Spooks [Verse 2: P Money] And if you're ucking with Spooks Tell dem my man'll send out the troops I said none of these breddas ain't hard And none of these breddas ain't real None of them breddas bust straps And none of their straps ain't steel I was checking out their stats And none of them breddas ain't k**ed They're talking like they're a chef And none of these breddas made meals None of these breddas are real None of these breddas are bad Right now I'm in a mad home And donny, I ain't even mad What do you mean, you're in a mad home? I mean that price for the yard, not a flat I'm talking mortgage, fam Hundreds of hundreds of racks Your clique's sad The flow's diarrhoea, blud, my sh**'s mad Cool with a barber that trims on point But when I spray man, I'm pulling my sh** back Draw me in the field, that's penalties, fam Up front, Aguero, Man City bangs Black whip, click click, bang chitty bang Bare smartphones and bare silly man Gatecrash parties, ripping that MAC Might phone Despa, I might phone Agz Might hit an uncle, might hit a dad Might hit chest, might hit abs Tryna make a drink off me? Are you mad? I ain't having a bar cuh there ain't no tab Bro, I don't wanna hear that I don't wanna hear that, I don't wanna hear that [Verse 3: Desperado] I've got bad Bs And I'm strapped so stay in your lane I'll have man jump out the whip like the Mad Men You owe me money? Gonna feel my pain You see, none of these n***as ain't on sh** None of these n***as ain't game Blacked out plane Shut sh** down on the main Shut sh** down, start raining I stay on the grind, f** gazing I stay on the grind while you're raving I'm f**ing up the pavement My name rings, I run out the pagans It's one of them things You've got a bag of cats and none of them rings 3.5, that's the litre It's my cla**, I'm the teacher I left with blood on my sneaker And in my pocket the beater, sh** can get deeper sh** can get protest I leave man wasting with no chest, hope that you know best All of my goons got racks All of my goons got stacks, keep F-ing up tracks Gone are the days [?] I'm defo not chilling in flats Stop talking your mouth like you're on stuff I'm feeding you to the wolves My name ring bells, got up from scales Like don't conversate with fools Come to the war prepared That's how you come with tools When we come, it's certi Gs And we don't follow no rules