#1TAKE (Part 1)

[Verse] Same trackie, five days, I made around seven quid Twenty-eight grams, point-one, one twenty-six Bills for the Z, I paid eleven fifth Them times, I was getting extorted 'cause I never whipped Two-fifty for a box of magic, time to get a crib Said it's only me and Asians trapping on the twenty-fifth All them black shottas go home to their families And spend their reload up in Bicester on the twenty-sixth All my cats are broke in January because of New Year's I don't send out texts but if I do, I send out two words "I'm on", used to do them three for twenty-five ones Active, fat scabby bags and the light's strong Two-for-fifteen, three-for-twenty, yeah I done it all Realised the forty shots were ripping so I done it more Shoplifters ask me what I want and then they run in stores By the time I've finished this bar, I've missed a couple calls Hit the spot once, give out pictures and it builds itself Overdoses, don't blame me, that nitty killed himself Stephen, taking subotex, to improve his health I'll still be the same me if you - Scales playing up, I gotta click tare every time Just for the stone, for the dark I got a special eye Wintertime, I got the window open, tryna make it dry Five days, we linked fat Craig twenty-seven times If you hear me say "It's a fact", there ain't no cap to it Landline number tryna call, know I can't answer it I don't do phone boxes, you better have credit I hate when I'm nearly at the sale and then they cancel it Hate when I'm nearly at the sale and then it's popped down Manifesting tryna make a million off one town Phone went slow so I'm calling every contact Telling 'em I got booked for things and I'm on now Stone's nice but the dark's mid, you'll be okay Nice dark but the stone's dead, brother no way Runner said it washes alright but what's the nose saying? 'Cause we know the two different ways of selling cocaine OT, weighing nought one-fives for twenty stones I ain't in the mood, the worker's loose, I had to send him home Heated all my contacts that smoke but they never phoned Three for twenty-five, I'll give you nine things for seven-O Jailhouse, they had me doing bang-up and creatine Fresh home, hand-to-hands, the cats just wanna see it's me Where I'm standing on this tenth floor, I can see the fiends Directing them a different way 'cause I can see police This F1 blend quicker than Schumacher in pit stops Tryna locate a nightclub where ballers link up PK dirt the same colour as Ice Spice And the Turk bag's dark and heavy like Rick Ross