Pak-Man - F64 lyrics

Tell you bout this rap game cause
I'm the hardest in it
Business with that white girl
Or it’s regarding spinach
Don't give me your CD, I'll probably bin it
Ends ain’t greazy, who's been bodied in it?
I ain't relying on a lottery ticket
Poverty, robberies, I'm somebody that live it
There was times when I never had
A score on my arse
Way before I flung a nine on
A four and a half
Real talk, listen this is all from the heart
They wan' see my empire falling apart
But I was shotting grub when
You was still in school
I was dealing food to a Spice Girl's husband
Let mе slow down, I'm a bit bait
Fuck a mixtape, my mum thinks I'm a disgrace
I feel to empty out a sеmi in his face
I don’t wanna leave the earth in this state


I know silent killers that
Only ride with spinners
Just something old out my cupboard
Looking kinda vintage
Flyer image, Purple Label’s from Ralph
My rap bars got me fucking
Out the waviest gal
And none of this paper's halal
They said I ain’t Muslim but my
Dad changed his name to Bilal
I give a fuck what you think
I'm in God's hands
Till I found Allah I felt like a lost man
Used to link cats by the park bench
I used to sell weed, now coke's my department
Forget what I used to do cah
That’s in the past tense
I'm dealing with right now and I'm
On point like a marksman
Talking like you're running your estate
I'm tryna run the city
Never running out of yay
Fuck what you heard
I'm only running from a jake
As a young yout grinding
Put a one-er down a day
Imagine what I stacked in a whole year
It's splendid i burned certain bridges and
They'll never get mended cocaine blended
The clip on the star's extended
Watch who you're sitting in your ends with
Fuck a little ten jib
Money for a brick of raw
Before SB introduced F64
I spent my teens with Hazey
Mashing in Tooting and Mitcham
I've got shooters in prison
I've got food in the kitchen
I'm abusing the system
I've got views so they listen
I've got girls on my nuts
Bare beautiful women
Still see me on the front line by Somali town
I don't need jewels to shine
When I'm Cavalli'd down
Chilling in Notts in my auntie's house
Cocaine in large amounts
I throw away half an ounce
Get me stung, I'ma get him bun
Never said I had to be the man
To go and get it done
Just to let you know I'm on this ting
I might pepper one fuck a vest on my chest
I'll cop a better one
Young yout's stressed cah he heard
That I sexed his mum
I need more than one pie
Cah I need extra funds
Monkey on my stunners fam
Yas at the back, that's a hundred grand
Gun in hand, loading up a toaster
And I feel to bun a man, turn a man over
Foot down, high revs, run a man over
Forget sitting reminiscing how I
Could've done it different cause I can't
Got the hood listening now's my chance
Years I've had these D's on my arse
Tryna do it like an OG, I'll mash a pie fast
This is more than music, fine art
Even pagans know that I'm hard
Talking like your dough stretch long
Living like a doctor, no profession
Man are turning thirty doing Rolex songs
When I turned twenty, had my Rolex on
And I ain't getting at Wiley Kat
Sitting in a grimy flat
Putting up a nine in racks
Really getting hard dough
Certain things only Allah knows
Can't be explained by no science
Looking down at a liar like a giant
The food's the same colour as the client