Ghetts, Youngs Teflon - 80s Swag lyrics
Ghetts [Justin Clarke Samuel]
[Ghetts, Youngs Teflon - 80s Swag lyrics]
They've got me teaching old tricks
To these new fools
Old Remington and some new jewels
And when the pagans pay me
Homage, I'm like "cool, cool"
Cause they respek it
Halfway crooks never mek it
They never had a beef that I deaded
Live life with a death wish
Smoke for breakfast
Riding for the same cause that Ghetts did
Cause I'm a rebel, selling green since a teen
18 to 21, it was pebbles
Top of my class without a medal
I was training up in the mountains
You went to the meadows away in a manger
Said I'm the boy king
I'll still sell an eighth to a stranger
Always alone, I'm a ranger
Said I'm comfy on my ones
The only friend I know is danger
I ain't a maniac
But certain situations could've made me die
Made me grind, made me stack
Made me overthink like a braniac
Lost my way, made it back
Thoughts crossed my brain that
Could've made me mad
We ain't no basic lads, no paper pad
Got that 90s style and 80s swag
My baby mother says I'm immature
She four years younger
What the fuck she think I'm with her for?
She told me get the hell out, I'm packing
I need a minute more
Hold on, you say you want me gone
So who you cookin' dinner for?
Mmm, that looks good, I'm staying
When I said you weren't a good cook
I was playing
Come here, give me that good good
What you saying? Don't tease me
Let me push my hood all the way in
Sometimes, I wanna argue for the make up sex
Need it in the morning
Or I'll spend the whole day upset
If I'm the man in your dreams
Then you should wake up wet
I'm surprised not one of our
Neighbours really hate us yet
Yeah, they say the walls have ears, babe
There's four walls and they all can hear
Babe i say the ceiling has feelings
It must be lean
Cause the smoke's right beneath it
Weed, so loud
I just hope these walls can keep a secret
Even though there's no award
For the speechless i walk the walk
And ruin floors with my sneakers
Normal procedures, late night studio
Ordering pizzas
Jerome should be over the moon
What the fuck's he complaining about?
It's a privilege recording this G shit
Book an appointment with a nail technician
If you ungrateful motherfuckers
Wanna see tips when I say I'm going ham
Fam, I don't mean E6
Wear my heart on my sleeve
Don't make me the weakest
It makes me the realest
Music's based on emotion, believe it
So this beat's getting
The emotional treatment
I'm digging deeper than the average rapper
I see murders getting captured on camera
Right in front of me
A man getting stabbed in his bladder
Right in front of me
Youts getting badder and badder
Right in front of me
You wanna be the man in the
Manor? Good luck with that
You'll probably get killed by the same
Youts that looked up to man
Diced in the alley when police left
These kids'll leave a nigga
Lying in the street, dead
Sometimes it's like a Western in the east end
Grandad said if we ain't fighting
With our fists then
We should be categorised as weak men
But, you see when everyone's got a strap
Cause everyone's got a strap and my nigga
Just bought another two
And I can't tell him he don't need them
Defence, nobody's sitting on the fence
We ain't getting caught in a
Crossfire in these ends