Lucii, Young A6, TzGwala, Hardest Bars - NR - HB Freestyle (Season 3) lyrics

(MH Beats, Drill Kartel)
Time is money, we don't do hagglin'
I unveiled that ting from Sheath
Had seven neeks all fuckin' staggerin'
You can call me a Catford Judas
Some might call me a Lewisham Anakin
Who said that we just do music?
Me, I got strips and bit's I'm managin'
I got more than a shank on me when I ride
I'm itchin' to blam man's face
(Lucii mixed this, baby, haha)

When I backed it live
I just see him ski daddle
He's on bitchin', snitchin', Randall
Got me thinkin' that he
Ain't worth the hassle
But I still got 'round with a nuzzle
Rise it, bang, leave him bamboozled
Turn him to herbs, I ain't talkin' no basil
So you know gang loadin' a brush
'Cah time is money
And we don't do no haggle
Time is money, we don't do hagglin'
I unveiled that ting from Sheath
Had seven neeks all fuckin' staggerin'
It's like, "Come here
You left your pride"
When I give back shots
Tizzy ain't daggerin'
I go skitz when I'm out on a glide
Fix-It Felix won't stop hammerin' then I
Guess me and him are alike
Four vets in a blacked out ride
Two YG's follow us on a bike
Try jump that fence
Must think that he's Jordan
He done left his bros like Mike
Four got-got, he's the Jackson 5
Must be smart, man, he knows to hide
I'm drivin' a car, bro holds the 9
Nigga, if you get stopped
Then we holdin' time

(Ayy, ayy)
Backed it bait, and I saw man panickin'
Vanishin', big ZK garn' damage him
You call me a Catford Judas
Some might call me a Lewisham Anakin
Who said that we just do music?
Me I got strips and bit's I'm managin'
But I can't say that I don't want payback
Score me a goal with the pole
Just bang it in
Quickly, like the way they run
Swiftly, I'ma aim this gun
Pack on pressed, and it's got man stressed
But opp block charged, the way they come
So we keep it movin', four years in a ride
We're cruisin'
Stayin' on point, man, I can't be snoozin'
Why? He love chasin' fun
Anyone K'D, don't get yourself yinged up
Might get dead if I itch this finger
I know my man, he's a patty
He was a baller, now, he's a sprinter
I'm gassed that summer's done
Beef gets pipin' hot in the winter
Still tryna catch me another one
DJ Khaled or Master Splinter

They play the game or get played
I got lined up once by a bitch
But I had my blade, and I made man skate
I got more than a shank on me when I ride
I'm itchin' to blam man's face
Wanna know what I'm on nowadays?
Come see back then, two man, three days
You should know that I'm sick with blades
But I'm also quick to dry out that gauge
15 years old, caught AM case
I bust that lack 'cah the way I prayed
17, got bagged with a yank on me, yet again
Lucii got away
Then I got bagged, kway out of YA
Three shanks on me, I still bust that case
Praised deep down, that's Satan ways
The rambo's big, but the ZK's bigger
You talk on net, some online fibber
When I talk on a track, it's facts
Work I've mashed on all of your breddas
Step on your block
That's sauce on pavements
Paigons, step out, I need them hammers
I had a dream last night with demons
Woke up angry and really felt better
I don't know why they talk on Lucii
All of my opps have run from my wetter
Nobody's touched this Turkish fella
So why do they still give verbal?
Two of the paigons died
This year, pack, hash, herbal
Gimme the drop, I'll turn up quick
That's me, YA tryna make man purple

(Lucii mixed this, baby, haha)