R.A of Roadside Gs - Khalas lyrics

[Intro] Yeah, RA (You know what time it is) Krept, Tally Mad ting, sad ting Been real (maniac, cool) (My brudda) Greazy ting (Play Dirty) Every f**ing time Ready for it How many times? I've got dargs that pop off singles for 'em (f** all these youts, gas) [Verse 1: Krept] Tally the madman Any MC, I'll kalash man Krept, Tally, badman, Afghan f** anyone coming at man, what? Spin who? f** that, man's on job Sixteen spun you, sent man shop Which yout? Come then, bet man flop None of you mugs can tek man's spot Long way from Gipset Tally No BRITs, no GRAMMYs, Christians, akhis Kids, no daddies, pissed in alleys Spliffs and ammi, sticks and ballies Clips and strallies, rinsing maggies Lifting fa**ies, chip from cabbies Linking baddies, gripsing Abbie Tits and batty, dicks and fanny Gyal move s*utty, I'm ringing her for the ucky Cats in Surrey, my n***as still in the gully Max, no flurry, you n***as thinking it's funny Till the rocket's out the pocket and all up inna your tummy Where's all the Charlie you selling up in the party, n***a? Where's the Cavalli, your money and the Versace, n***a? Where's all your honeys? Say that you get the punani, n***a Now we getting money, we must be Illuminati Krept, Tally, deep within the streets, miss him G, listen, I eat riddims, I'll keep spinning Sneak dissing, keep digging, I'll Meek Mill him Peak for 'em, keep k**ing, I'll reaper 'em Best in the country, beg someone touch me Skets wanna s** me, text me for uck, G Feds on a f**ery, tek 'way my young G I don't give a f** if Metro trust me I can't believe this sh** They compare me to wack MCs, neeky pricks I'm from that south side era, man are G for dis That RA gangster grime, that greazy sh** It's all real They can't tek man's sauce still Free up Fems, Weeps, Snap, Goddy Fam, they're all hill [Verse 2: RA] RA is R-A-W You know that, that had the road mad No metaphor, just smack and know facts When I clap MACs, it's bags and dog tags So don't rap back, just clap your own back Yeah, the akh's back, it's that, it's all mad Way back from Pac-Man to [?] Had that one a moped in a backpack, man Ride up, jump off the bike and bap-bap And I still ain't taking no backchat Nowadays, man think they're bad on Snapchat I'll back out mad straps and snap off snapbacks (Kaboom) Cuh when I go to the function Big hand ting, whip it out like a truncheon Three .45s like a bus going Junction Yeah, them man there rap, but they lie about their dumpings I just know if I let the MAC go Suttin's getting fried like a dumpling And it's proven Everybody you see me with, they're movers I'm the real deal, they're YouTubers I was on smoke, they was on computers School days, badness, badding up tutors Riding with hand tings hanging off scooters Never been a has-been, banging on Judas Real life shankings, claret on Pumas Real life cabbaging characters and Lugers Steel pipe damaging f*ggots and losers Real life, managing havoc and rumours Jail life, mad ting, whacking up shooters So don't let me let off You was on a train, I was on a sweatbox I was in the rain, you was on your Xbox Cocaine, tryna network to a next spot Dem times dere, my cousin caught a next shot Out in yard, tryna line up a headshot Flew back home tryna get it by the headlock I was getting boxes, banging it in Z shots Then I see a .44 peel back a headtop Seen a MAC mek a man twist like a dreadlock Switch it [Verse 3: Konan] Ain't top three? That's an insult These neeks don't bang, they ain't involved Black bag full of ink notes PCs had me getting out windows In banger whips doing petty runs Got savages that ain't 21 Nearly got grabbed from the firearms I was living with Ma's, now I'm buying yards Palace to Heath, I've got gang in the streets Free Snapper and Weeps These rappers are neeks, they ain't clapping on heat They're just rapping on beats Put a akh in [?] with a pa**ion for beef Got your slag on her knees I was chatting to T while I sat in the heat With crack in my jeans Wrap scarf or a black mask, wap parked in a cat's yard Black heart, never act soft [?] in a packed dance, better act fast If that barks, that's your hat gone And I was tryna bag plants Dash past in a cab car Blacked-out with a fat arse Splash large when I'm at Shard Rap star wearing Trapstar All I see is nerds and fakers Your Rolex ain't got papers Normal weed in a medicine bottle I don't wanna hear about flavours Crack in a [?], rap like a freestyle I was sixteen with the MAC at Monique's house Flat with my feed out, stack in the meanwhile Neeks on the net, I'm [?] on the rebound They're only bad when they login Think you're sick till you're cold in a coffin Rudeboy like Rihanna Before all this, I was robbing For a Kilo Echo Yankee Bro will Papa Oscar Papa At your Bravo Oscar Yankee Put him to Bravo Echo Delta [Verse 4: Krept] My don's in Huntercombe, sh**'s still active I want a hundred Ms quick like Gatlin You would think my G's from Mozart Selling Fredo's had the tings dem rattlin' All this bread and you think I never bought no tings for the Gs dem? Blud, don't even You'll see nuttin' but trackies, TNs My n***as are able to end your weekend Too cold You're better than who, bro? I phoned up Abz, he got two bookings He's moving too sho Get my cards out, unlock the Wraithe I change my suit, I cop some Ace I took your girl, don't be so mad I'd put anything on it, your queen's a slag There's no reversing like a king When it gets on top 'cause man, I'll pitch in Three twos, you'll hold six when it hits him Three eights will have man skipping None of these MCs are levelling You think these jokers are anything? Play your cards right, streets are mad, akh Hold your own or be another blackjack What, G? Top three n***as, know Krept is Ain't old school? Then you probably won't get this Madman Femz had it out all reckless Banger and the mash and he done it with breakfast Sprayed in the crib, man done it with Westwood Out of the blue like bruddas in Deptford Real Artillery, nuttin' was censored Locking off raves, man are running through entrance Got Gs in the ends too My Gs, we offend too You ain't buying no arsenal Now you're who the docs need to attend to Come a long way from me and Snap Capone Tryna go country Feds took the whip on a f**ery, left man stranded in Wooly I could've strangled 'em, p**y You ain't grabbed no shotties, clapped nobody Catch no bodies, wrap no Bobby Not my brudda, don't @ nobody She sat pon co*ky, no back, no doggy Dead Comment on my man's pics? You're a beg Click-clack-blaow, watch n***as go d**h f** that, right now, n***a, I'm vex Contract signed, six-figure, no less Stop holding your fist like Arthur Like bro ain't got a ting for the drama Switchblade get your wig shaved Believe in your bloodclart barber Black n***a chilling with corporates f** who's feeling important You brag 'bout whips, that's awkward Your whip probably cost my insurance I've lost my insanity Bought a chain, I've spent your salary My darg on savagery They nicked my chargie for battery Tally's back, it can't be You just brought back the dark me You just brought back Tsunami [Verse 5: R.A.] I'm the wrong one to test Talk about grime, I'm the don in the flesh I was carrying grime like a bomb in a vest Get one out this ting make it launch in your chest Now run out the gym when I let off the spesh Kept the streets alive, I hoped for the best Get the beef alive I cook it to d**h The young Gs will ride they're looking to rev When I come for man they get shook to the d**h Cause I'll lick one man down then look for the rest Spinnin' in the whip Spinner on my hip Sittin' in the Bimmer, it's a ringer with a clitch My darg hit the MAC-11 ringing like a chick There's levels to this ting, he's a k**er, you're a prick You never put in work so you're different to my clique Living in the bits Fidgeting with sticks I know [?] so I got it different on a brick Winning on the strip Sinning like a prick I know a lot of man kept wishing I was pitched It's different when you're rich Legit in the whip But I weren't so I had to whip it in a dish Sitting in a crib, get rid of it in bits I don't rate don how he's living like a snitch Deep in the water, swimming like a fish Catch him in a tower block visiting his chick I make my brudda [?] wig him in the lift I come from the era where I'm spitting off sticks Running down paigons and kicking up pricks [Verse 6: Konan] Young G in a motor (skr) 21 with a poker If he starts talking grease in Portuguese All you'll see is Nike hoodies and Gola If you see the gang, three-seater van If you ain't armed you're gonna need a hand Hooded up in the corner You'll see more than a borer if I beef a man No doe so I sold dope on my old phone [?] in a polo on my old road No hope, when you go broke all the hoes go No go, said they don't go from the postcode No joke, you can hold smoke [?] [?] Won't know till you go cold [?] Don't know if you'll go home or you won't go Hundred deep at Junior Jam Country show ain't new to man 157 going People's Day Have you flying off the bus like Superman You said if it's on better dial me in Shots sound like a loud BM You shoulda saw the kick on the Calibre There'll be nothing but bones if the cow's see 'em These nerds ain't never done a hard day I phoned up the plug, said I can't wait You had six O's of the hard 'cane I ate three O's but I half eight Man talkin' bout beefin All I see is man tweeting Ting from Kilburn said she want children So you better get on your knees then Them man are all sheep, and you're looking at the GOAT I might pull up in a Lamb, monkey for the coke I see pigs in my rear, I had cats on my phone They had my dog on the wing He done a bird, came home