Maniacs

[Intro: Blade Brown, DJ Big Ryde]

Yeah, yeah

Yeah, yeah

Okay

Yeah

Aight hold tight Blade, let's do this

[Verse 1: Blade Brown, DJ Big Ryde]

The state of the game is a tragedy

Everybody's licking shots, everybody's bagging B

They say I wrap raw casually

Real talk I really had a nigga up in casualty

And nah I ain't talking 'bout the series

Feel free to ask me, I'm addressing all your queries

And darg I only roll with a couple bruddas

Most man are clowns they remind me of the Chuckle Brothers

And yeah my family's tight

Just B, Dre and C, I could name a couple others (But what?)

But I ain't baiting up names

It's bad enough I'm on the road baiting up 'caine

After a hard day's work darg

I'm ringing up Keisha, I'm rating that brain

But nah back to the subject

Most of the niggas on this rap ting are suspect

You never see them on the strip late

Swear down fam I can't listen to these mixtapes (Swear down)

They say they're all on the grind

I get that peng yeah I call it the shine, why? (Tell 'em why fam)

Because it glistens in the light

This is real talk, don't listen to the hype

Every time I spit it's like I'm christening the mic (This is Ard Bodied)

These niggas must be smoked when they're kissing on the pipe (Ayo Giggs, tell 'em how it went down)

[Verse 2: Giggs]

Move so scatty in life (Yeah)

Stuck in the traphouse packaging white (Packaging white)

Look to the left of me, the matic's in sight (Matic's in sight)

Clip's loaded up, proper smack it in right (Hmm)

My strategy's nice (Yeah)

Look for a hottie on a Saturday night (Yeah)

I was looking ravaged that night

Boogs kinda shocking with the Adidas stripe (Ooh)

Got rounds in the strap cocked (Cocked)

I come round have your town under mad lock

And I ain't come round for a slap job (Job)

I come round, I'll be sounding the mac off

Take all your hats off (Off)

Got the whole rap game in a padlock (Yeah)

And I ain't playing with you fags 'cause (What?)

It could end bloodstains on your laptop (Yeah)

Cocaine I done bagged lots (Lots)

Gotta link a duss head round Bagshot

There's a yellow sign up on the corner

Asking anyone if they saw who stabbed Bob (Hmm)

Don't say that I'm wack 'cause

You've got Hollowman playing in your rag top (Yeah)

Plus I got your princess in my flat dog

Balls in her mouth, call it a sack job

[Verse 3: Dubz]

More hype, why?

'Cause I fucked your baby momma

Marmite, why?

Love me or hate me brudda

Underrate me I'ma

Still make my butter

Snowflakes in summer

I'm an A-Class shover, not the Mercedes

Couple eights I'll plug up in your girlfriend's buttocks

Or her purse maybe

Pull up in a car at the curb she'll leave

I might bring a couple dargs to your territory

Fuck the metaphors B

Cheap ass nigga, you'll get peppered for free

As for stepping on feet? Steel-toe caps

So when I step on the street I pay no tax

Feds mentioning me? You don't know man

'Cause the nitties they need me like coke cans

Probation don't see me, don't show fam (Show fam)

'Cause I'm peddling diesel, that dope man

Look, now it's time that I think I get my dick polished

Hit the club unshaven, Rick Ross ish

Plus the coke's unshaven, big boss ish

And the colt just came in, Giggs's promise

So you better just hide your goods

'Cause I'm better with this 9 iron than Tiger Woods

Let me show you the real meaning of time flying inside the shoobz

Get your watch popped and your shine took by minor crooks

[Outro: DJ Big Ryde]

Aight

Don't forget Hollowman Meetz Blade

That's on the road now yeah

So make sure you cop that

Yeah

Aight, so hear what I'm saying

It's Big Ryde

I'm back on my shit