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lirik lagu sirin - real lads

[verse 1]
first off, f-ck your sister and the b-tches you claim
north side when we ride, you can call me names!
cowards die a 1000 deaths but a soulja dies once!
talking sh-t behind my back, we know you fear my response
plus you needed some peeps, you can never c me!
stupid choice you made, messing with an mc!
making good decisions isn’t your cup of tea
a salty -ss w-nker that is all i can see
now i’m finally free from your punchable face
boring b-tchy b-st-rd brought me back to the b-ss
bicken back beeing bool, you can hear what i see
call yourself british, you don’t even drink tea
oh the time you tried to fight me, the next second you cried
in front those mediocre maidens you kept getting friendzoned by
your homies w-nk in the mirror, my homies they can floss
how can a rule sucker ever be the f-cking boss?

[interlude]
holla at me b-tch, go on look for your needle
and tell your f-cking sister i don’t mess with posh people
right! i can see straight through you, white knight
you can only win if i die 2nite!
oh b-tch i ain’t the guy to fight
and who the f-ck studies on a friday night?
the hours when i live in my rapper’s delight
so you stay quiet!

[verse 2]
real lads, they spit it right in your face
choking like a p-ssy when i set you the pace!
your very own medicine, gives you the taste
cause the boring b-tchy b-st-rd brought me back to the b-ss!
getting laced in the pain, heavy in the game!
b-tch -ss f-cking w-nker, you are ratchet insane
taking left of last laugh lane. lonely wack -ss player hater
and you dare to have the guts just to call me a traitor?
call yourself a walking calculator, next to that you’re a coward
and you couldn’t calculate my mighty lyrical power!
you wouldn’t be real if it saved your non-existing life
if you get me a cob on, i cut sharper than a knife
in your skin, fat and bones. all you do is w-nk and moan
on your friendzoning b-tches, wait a decade for the phone!
cause a lying -ss gob, that was all that you had
you acting dead mad, so sad. real muddaf-kkin’ lads!

[bridge]
real muddaf-kkin’ lads, they don’t get their gob full of w-nk
staying on the ship until that useless b-tch sank
these normies need to buy a back bone, jumping on-off the fads
but our ridaz keeping it 100, real muddaf-kkin’ lads!

[verse 3]
melt down like a snowflake, you’re allergic to heat
and slacker said he gonna diss me, i could give you a beat
plus a pen, a pad, a mic. feeling like a home defeat
relegated to my notebook and my mighty five line sheets!
next to benji, steve and rabbit. you’re in that list too
if man utd was a person, it would surely be you
arrogant, ent-tled, completely full of sh-t!
something doesn’t go your way, you throw a toddler mocking fit
when i was drunk like a scouser, you behaved like a manc
and we all know you never get a tw-t full of w-nk!
busting nuts on your ex, you better bust a b-tch!
player hating tricks, they will never be rich
no-one cares ‘bout your games, no-one cares that you fight
now you need a triple belt just to get through the night
ditched your own diss, cause you knew it was bad
you acting dead mad, so sad. real muddaf-kkin’ lads!

[outro]
real muddaf-kkin’ lads, we don’t spill the tea
real muddaf-kkin’ lads, we keep it g!
real muddaf-kkin’ lads, watching footy with beer
real muddaf-kkin’ lads, f-cking through our fears
real muddaf-kkin’ lads, they don’t stab back
real muddaf-kkin’ lads, we will have a dab!
real muddaf-kkin’ lads, they can make a mistake
real muddaf-kkin’ lads, they can let go the brakes
real muddaf-kkin’ lads, punish p-ssy pr-cks
real muddaf-kkin’ lads, they would never suck a d-ck!
so sad, be glad. our boys and b-tches bad!
red rashes from the bullsh-t cause we are real muddaf-kkin’ lads!

- lirik lagu sirin

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