Ghetts - Hop Out lyrics

Ghetts [Justin Clarke Samuel]

[Ghetts - Hop Out lyrics]

Switch up the vehicle
Change the plates and scrape off the serial
Limousine tint, man can't see me at all
Old-school car thief
I could start cars when I had no key at all
How did I start that car? I don't know
It's a miracle if you wanted a ringer back
Then you'd give Carlton, cJ or me a call
Where'd you get that car from?
CJ, Carlton, Reggie or Marlon
Hot one riding shotgun
Can't keep the bra on, now I got a hard on
Golf GTI Mark 1
That's how long I've had cars from
MR2's and MX-5's r-E-A-L, better recognise

Hop in and hop out hop in and hop out
Hop in and hop out
Drop the top when it's hot out
Just hop in and hop out hop in and hop out
Hop in and hop out
Hop in and hop out (Ooh, ooh)
Drop the top when it's hot out
Just hop in and

Before man built up to grand theft
I was out here with
The Stilsons and flathеads
Slap on the wrist when man got nicked
Wе were still classed as children back then
Stratford, Plaistow and Ilford back then
We used to lick that Ford
Showroom like every other week
That's wheels from Dagenham
Cars are hills, man Jilled and Jacked them
I, I had whips all right through the winter
Summer 2000 I graduated from
The Typhoon to Ninja then it was houses
Bamboo sticks, I climb through the window
Man move swift at night, I can't linger
Man see the blue lights and do sprinter
Young boys getting paper
Now everyone wants a cut but
They didn't lift one finger

Hop in and hop out
(Look at the motherfucking wheels)
Hop in and hop out hop in and hop out
(Goddamn) drop the top when it's hot out
Just hop in and hop out hop in and hop out
Hop in and hop out hop in and hop out
Drop the top when it's hot out
Just hop in and

From when I was a teenager
Who can say that I ain't seen paper?
Year nine, bare crime
Black box cars like that's not hard
Next day straight to the Manor Park key maker
I'm getting nine for the MX-5
And I got another
That I spit get played in cars that I like
Dead him on sight
All-black double-R, get him on bike
R6, two riders, one blasting
Yeah, I roll deep in the ringer, fuck it
Got no keys for the Bimmer, fuck
Niggas ain't done no drive-by shootings
Watch when I buy my new ting nuttin' but

I remember when the bro Preston used to
Come link me in the leather jacket black one
The flathead in the pocket
Said he was feeling like Nicholas Cage
In Gone in Sixty Seconds
The next day I had school in the morning
Pulling up next to the teachers
In converts and what not
Oh, I was feeling myself, yeah

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