Can't Rate

[Intro: Yanko] 6 Shell H1K made this Anyone can go Them man on the corner, spin this whip 180 degrees Black blade twins, just cheff like we're grating cheese Gave him six, he put the inches so fucking deep [Verse 1: Yanko] Anyone can go So we search for neeks Spotted dem man on the corner Spin this whip 180 degrees Me and Zico, black blade twins, just cheff like we're grating cheese **** laughed when he gave him six, he put the inches so fucking deep 7 stick with a load of sticks Now we look like a team of cricketers If Kizz step with a botty You know it's packed with two big cylinders They ride with phones and wet down innocents, how can I rate these idiots? Ask my man where he's from, why's this yute tryna move oblivious? Push metal in tissue, you're gonna need more than tissue All these lies are a fucking issue Talk this shit when the .32 hits you Trap-trap, man's giving out testers Wet mans head, now he's a redhead like Whitney from Eastenders Man pepper up pepper, no piggy It may be the .32, it may be the dotty Slap mans head with the shiny bells, now he's the same colour as poppies We want more bells in the dotty So we invested in the mozzy I swear I seen that yute in E16, said "Yanko, man's not oppy" Said "Yanko, man's not oppy" [Verse 2: Kayzed] Can't rate these punks Me and S pop doors again Made that pussio jump Like Vandoe says Pop that door, get that done He caught life The opp boy escaped Really and truly my man should have been fried It's calm, we're not done Nah-nah, don't think that we're done You can't go shop when you're lacking That's mummy losing her son And that's facts You best run fast **** knows, you might get wet in your back Or you might get wet in your front Yeah, yeah, get wet in your front Free Vandoe, Free Y.Smokes They put that yute in a blunt Tryna fill up these cunts But it's not no dick that I'm using Went to the 6, didn't see shit Come back to ends, I'm fuming Stomp mans head on the yard with Yanko These man try come to the block Me and Stainez backed our rambos The verbal game is washed Can't even listen to these man's lies How can I rate these guys? [Verse 3: Yanko] Chinged them man like I chinged this laser down with the walker razor Free up my left hand Vader, gave that yute to the undertaker This mash is a slag, it just wanna beat like Max and Stacy Slater You snitched on guys from the ends Now you fuck with ****, you're a fucking traitor Tear through ribs when I enter Beckton We have to and get more petty 'Cah we just done laps and the cars on empty How could you try bore MB for the price of one, he got more than twenty If I push this ying in your body it'll drip too hard like you're wearing Fendi Niggas know where I'm from That's Gate, that's Gaza, that's Blacks Step in the 6 tryna take off hats Leave him holy like a Sunday mass How could you be so wass? Lie on my name 'bout how I got splashed Man can't talk 'bout ****, 'cah I backed my shine and he digital dashed Countless times I've stepped in **** He lost his eye when the dose dispatched Man run up in flats with J Mandem running intense in backs Had man running in roads He almost made two motors crash Fat boy begged for your lift, open your eyes He almost packed, I said he almost packed [Verse 4: Kayzed] The mandem blue like Crips The opp boy drips in blood How do you take them in? What, what, they ain't on crud **** got kicked last week But it's still on sight if I buck him Kicked him out 'cah he's wet But the whole squad ain't on nothing Like dem man don't make sense Talk so much 'bout field But all you man on the bench One yute stepped out of line Stainez left him drenched So don't ever think you can mention bro You don't wanna see him vexed [Outro: Yanko] Anyone can go Them man on the corner, spin this whip 180 degrees Black blade twins, just cheff like we're grating cheese Gave him six, he put the inches so fucking deep