Pak-Man, J Spades - Four Seasons lyrics
[Pak-Man, J Spades - Four Seasons lyrics]
More money, more pagans
I understand why you're hating
Spades doing shows, got the tour waiting
I was OT getting more cake in
I get money and you don't
Cause I take risks that you won't
Don't pree haters, I'm too grown
Get on the plane, get the food home
I trap every day of every month
You sell your soul for like twenty lumps
It ain't real beef unless the semi dumps
My bruddas getting money from
The ends to cunch
In the kitchen, food stretching
Or in the whip cruising through Streatham
Playboy, I'm Hugh Hef-ing
Rеalness, the true еssence
People wanna know what you're about
Talking tough, you've got me pissed off
Talking shit, you're tryna draw me out
Till I pop up on your
Block with my shit cocked
All of my team are somebodies
Get another mother's son bodied
Most of my bruddas done robberies
Operations that run properly
I'm grinding hard through four season
More P's in fish scale, that's raw gleaming
Corn beating, you're bleeding
Mum crying on the floor, weeping
To the Lord pleading
But that's what happens in war, beefing
It's so gritty in this cold city
We stack dough and get more heats in
It ain't real beef unless you're bleeding
All this corn beating, I need more P's in
Twenty-four seven, grinding all four seasons
Three-sixty-five, grinding all four seasons
Twenty-four seven, grinding all four seasons
Three-sixty-five, grinding all four seasons
Twenty-four seven, grinding all four seasons
Three-sixty-five, grinding all four seasons
In London there's big guns
You never know that
And there's certain man that can't live long
You never know that and we've got the city
At my show got trappers with me
Big up my dargs dem cah they're on the roads
And they're trapping with me
Hottest nigga on the scene darg
Hottest nigga they've seen darg
Tripling P, that's the team darg
Head nigga that's in charge
And we're heavyweights cah we're out
Here and we hit hard and we're everywhere
They don't do it like this nah
Whip dubs, grow crops
Food on the line and it's gon' pop
On my grind and it won't stop
Real life no soap op
Shop closed down, shop open up
Early grind, you'll get woken up
Half of each getting broken up
Kitties see me, they show me love
Cause they remember me out there
Like a mailbox, posted up
The Turks dem used to drop keys
Certain doors got opened up
The junkies dem smoke mad rocks
None of them man there are sober cuz
Nine o'clock, they've got three beers
Them man there moving like Goldilocks
It ain't real beef unless you're bleeding
All this corn beating, I need more P's in
Twenty-four seven, grinding all four seasons
Three-sixty-five, grinding all four seasons
Twenty-four seven, grinding all four seasons
Three-sixty-five, grinding all four seasons
Twenty-four seven, grinding all four seasons
Three-sixty-five, grinding all four seasons
I understand why you're hating
Spades doing shows, got the tour waiting
I was OT getting more cake in
I get money and you don't
Cause I take risks that you won't
Don't pree haters, I'm too grown
Get on the plane, get the food home
I trap every day of every month
You sell your soul for like twenty lumps
It ain't real beef unless the semi dumps
My bruddas getting money from
The ends to cunch
In the kitchen, food stretching
Or in the whip cruising through Streatham
Playboy, I'm Hugh Hef-ing
Rеalness, the true еssence
People wanna know what you're about
Talking tough, you've got me pissed off
Talking shit, you're tryna draw me out
Till I pop up on your
Block with my shit cocked
All of my team are somebodies
Get another mother's son bodied
Most of my bruddas done robberies
Operations that run properly
I'm grinding hard through four season
More P's in fish scale, that's raw gleaming
Corn beating, you're bleeding
Mum crying on the floor, weeping
To the Lord pleading
But that's what happens in war, beefing
It's so gritty in this cold city
We stack dough and get more heats in
It ain't real beef unless you're bleeding
All this corn beating, I need more P's in
Twenty-four seven, grinding all four seasons
Three-sixty-five, grinding all four seasons
Twenty-four seven, grinding all four seasons
Three-sixty-five, grinding all four seasons
Twenty-four seven, grinding all four seasons
Three-sixty-five, grinding all four seasons
In London there's big guns
You never know that
And there's certain man that can't live long
You never know that and we've got the city
At my show got trappers with me
Big up my dargs dem cah they're on the roads
And they're trapping with me
Hottest nigga on the scene darg
Hottest nigga they've seen darg
Tripling P, that's the team darg
Head nigga that's in charge
And we're heavyweights cah we're out
Here and we hit hard and we're everywhere
They don't do it like this nah
Whip dubs, grow crops
Food on the line and it's gon' pop
On my grind and it won't stop
Real life no soap op
Shop closed down, shop open up
Early grind, you'll get woken up
Half of each getting broken up
Kitties see me, they show me love
Cause they remember me out there
Like a mailbox, posted up
The Turks dem used to drop keys
Certain doors got opened up
The junkies dem smoke mad rocks
None of them man there are sober cuz
Nine o'clock, they've got three beers
Them man there moving like Goldilocks
It ain't real beef unless you're bleeding
All this corn beating, I need more P's in
Twenty-four seven, grinding all four seasons
Three-sixty-five, grinding all four seasons
Twenty-four seven, grinding all four seasons
Three-sixty-five, grinding all four seasons
Twenty-four seven, grinding all four seasons
Three-sixty-five, grinding all four seasons