Pounds

(Intro)

Yo, wagwan.

This ain't no joke, bruv.

Mandem on point, you get me?

Let's get into it.

(Verse 1)

Step on the ends, rockin' Trapstar, innit?

Cold stare, notes in the pouch, ain't no pennies we bringin'.

Opps chattin' loose on the net, in the flesh they go mute, bruv,

Rollin' up in the blacked-out Range, we the ones in pursuit, bruv.

Got a peng ting on my line, sayin' my drip is gully,

But I got the bando on my mind, stackin' P's makin' money.

Feds lurkin' round the block, blue lights flash in the night,

Dippin' through the alleyways, we ain't gettin' nicked tonight.

(Chorus)

It's that LDN flight, central point, no cap.

From the mud to the top, every one of my G's on the map.

Cold blood, quick cash, livin' the movie, no fiction,

Leavin' you man behind, heavy bags my addiction, innit?

It's that LDN flight, central point, no cap.

From the mud to the top, every one of my G's on the map.

(Verse 2)

Nike Tech Fleece fitted, fresh Air Force on the feet,

My slime says "we're out," so we take to the street.

Step in the booth, spittin' fire, ain't no stressin', mate,

Your squad's lookin' dusty, we the ones who dictate.

Don't chat 'bout the beef if you ain't stepped on the pave,

This track causin' tremors when the heavy bass caves.

Hood up, London rain pourin' down on the road,

But my pockets look sunny, yeah, we stick to the code.

(Outro)

Yeah. West London vibes.

Pure flex.

Safe, bruv. Roll that up.