lirik lagu feltz artist - slumpdown
run up on man with stan till you get smithed
let the bangers off, no piff
wrap you up, no spliff
no car but i get around quick
me and my dawgs we bark commands
horse on my head, the ralphy brand
no beach around here but i still move sand
i wanna reach my nans age i wanna reach grands
they say i got a heart of a stone
but ill turn your heart to stone when i pop the chrome
lower your tone, no phone
out here to get dough, no scone
when the ting hits your feel the impact
have your wig looking tomato when it splats
were the dawgs surrounded by the cats
that want the sh-t that we have
were have your never dancing no rave
ill tsunami over you big waves
i ain’t talking waterguns when you get sprayed
im on time like a train with no delay
no chris brown when i take your girl for a beat
get her breast out have her page 3
then she’s fully naked like a p-rn magazine
i share my portions feed her to the team
im out to get cream, not whipped
ill leave you in a wreck, not shipped
open your insides like im getting out the pips
im eating bacon but running from the pigs
i ain’t talking sweets when my star-burst
bang bang leave him in a hurst
it ain’t sunday pray day in a church
like a car game im always first
i ain’t talking voodoo when i say i curse
your girls giving me treatment the sl-tty nurse
take half of your area like cyprus cos off turks
i ride fresh to the shooobz like im in a merc
ive got lines but i ain’t a sniff-head
ill put the hammer to your f-cking sledge
your still a chip, im a wedge
i grow food, no fruit and veg
im born a ledge no side
get your channel cut off no sky
move food about birds eye
thats the reflection of me in your birds eye
move to fly, helicopter
get the 33 let of ten like a nokia
i ain’t talking fanta when it pops at ya
when i do moves i do proper stuff
no car jacker, but im a booster
i get around the farms no rooster
f-ck a cadet im a trooper
girls undo my zip like a scooter
i put in cream for my cake
im like a cobra but i ain’t a snake
sneaky sh-t cos of the jakes
your get ghosted like a bike with no brakes
you pr-cks are fake, like the market
aim my ting at my target
no flint when i spark it
leave blood-stains on the carpet
rob you for your horse like im jacking ralph
but what im packing will be in your mouth
and i ain’t on about a pack-lunch
something that will make your insides crunch
and that ain’t no crunches
i ain’t had a move for week so im hungry
so im patrolling the streets for the munchies
if you don’t co-operate your go over without the bungee
they know me as feltz so ill give you tips
i don’t like your mistake, your full of sh-t
i dont need a trampoline when iflip
i ain’t on about trees when istick
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