Khalas

[Intro]

Yeah, RA

(You know what time it is)

Krept, Tally

Mad ting, sad ting

Been real (cool, maniac)

(My brudda)

Greazy ting

(Play Dirty)

Every fucking time

Ready for it

How many times?

I've got dargs that pop off semis for it

(Fuck all these youts, gas)

[Verse 1: Krept]

Tally the madman

Any MC, I'll khalas man

Krept, Tally, badman, Afghan

Fuck anyone coming at man, what?

Spin who? Fuck that, man's on job

Sixteen spun you, sent man shop

Which yout? Come then, bet man flop

None of you mugs can tek man's spot

Long way from Gipset Tally

No BRITs, no GRAMMYs, Christians, akhis

Kids, no daddies, pissed in alleys

Spliffs and ammi, sticks and ballies

Clips and strallies, rinsing maggies

Lifting fassies, chip from cabbies

Linking baddies, gripsing Abbie

Tits and batty, dicks and fanny

Gyal move slutty, I'm ringing her for the ucky

Cats in Surrey, my niggas still in the gully

Macs, no flurry, you niggas thinking it's funny

Till the rocket's out the pocket and all up inna your tummy

Where's all the Charlie you selling up in the party, nigga?

Where's the Cavalli, your money and the Versace, nigga?

Where's all your honeys? Say that you get the punani, nigga

Now we getting money, we must be Illuminati

Krept, Tally, deep within the streets, miss him

G, listen, I eat riddims, I'll keep spinning

Sneak dissing, keep digging, I'll Meek Mill him

Peak for 'em, keep killing, I'll reaper him

Best in the country, beg someone touch me

Skets wanna suck me, text me for uck, G

Feds on a fuckery, tek 'way my young G

I don't give a fuck if Metro trust me

I can't believe this shit

They compare me to wack MCs, neeky pricks

I'm from that south side era, man are G for dis

That RA gangster grime, that greazy shit

It's all real

They can't tek man's sauce still

Free up Fems, Weeps, Snap, Goddy

Fam, they're all hill

[Verse 2: RA]

RA is R-A-W

You know that, that had the road mad

No metaphor, just smack and know facts

When I clap MACs, it's bags and toe tags

So don't rap back, just clap your own back

Yeah, the akh's back, it's that, it's all mad

Way back from Pac-Man to Blackjack, man

Had that one a moped in a backpack, man

Ride up, jump off the bike and bap-bap

And I still ain't taking no backchat

Nowadays, man think they're bad on Snapchat

I'll back out mad straps and snap off snapbacks

(Kaboom) Cuh when I go to the function

Big hand ting, whip it out like a truncheon

Three .45s like a bus going Junction

Yeah, them man there rap, but they lie about their dumpings

I just know if I let the MAC go

Suttin's getting fried like a dumpling

And it's proven

Everybody you see me with, they're movers

I'm the real deal, they're YouTubers

I was on smoke, they was on computers

School days, badness, badding up tutors

Riding with hand tings hanging off scooters

Never been a has-been, banging on Judas

Real life shankings, claret on Pumas

Real life cabbaging characters and Lugers

Steel pipe damaging faggots and losers

Real life, managing havoc and rumours

Jail life, mad ting, whacking up shooters

So don't let me let off

You was on a train, I was on a sweatbox

I was in the rain, you was on your Xbox

Cocaine, tryna network to a next spot

Dem times dere, my cousin caught a neck shot

Out in yard, tryna line up a headshot

Flew back home tryna get it by the headlock

I was getting boxes, banging it in Z shots

Then I seen a .44 peel back a headtop

Seen a MAC mek a man twist like a dreadlock

Switch it

[Verse 3: Konan]

Ain't top three? That's an insult

These neeks don't bang, they ain't involved

Black bag full of ink notes

PCs had me getting out windows

In banger whips doing petty runs

Got savages that ain't 21

Nearly got grabbed from the firearms

I was living with Miles, now I'm buying yards

Palace to Heath, I've got gang in the streets

Free Snapper and Weeps

These rappers are neeks, they ain't clapping on heat

They're just rapping on beats

Got a akh in Khamis with a passion for beef

Got your slag on her knees

I was chatting to T while I sat in the heat

With crack in my jeans

Wrap scarf or a black mask, wap parked in a cat's yard

Black heart, never act soft

If that blast on a jack-arse

In a packed dance, better act fast

If that barks, that's your hat gone

And I was tryna bag plants

Dash past in a cab car

Blacked-out with a fat arse

Splash large when I'm at Shard

Rap star wearing Trapstar

All I see is nerds and fakers

Your Rolex ain't got papers

Normal weed in a medicine bottle

I don't wanna hear about flavours

Crack in a B House, rap like a freestyle

I was sixteen with the MAC at Monique's house

Flat with my feed out, stack in the meanwhile

Neeks on the net, I'ma catch on the rebound

They're only bad when they login

Think you're sick till you're cold in a coffin

Rudeboy like Rihanna

Before all this, I was robbing

For a Kilo Echo Yankee

Bro will Papa Oscar Papa

At your Bravo Oscar Yankee

Put him to Bravo Echo Delta

[Verse 4: Krept]

My don's in Huntercombe, shit's still active

I want a hundred Ms quick like Gatlin

You would think my G's from Mozart

Selling Freddos had the tings dem rattlin'

All this bread and you think

I never bought no tings for the Gs dem? Blud, don't even

You'll see nuttin' but trackies, TNs

My niggas are able to end your weekend

Too cold

You're better than who, bro?

I phoned up Abz, he got two bookings

He's moving too sho

Get my cards out, unlock the Wraithe

I change my suit, I cop some Ace

I took your girl, don't be so mad

I'd put anything on it, your queen's a slag

There's no reversing like a king

When it gets on top 'cause man, I'll pitch in

Three twos, you'll hold six when it hits him

Three eights will have man skipping

None of these MCs are levelling

You think these jokers are anything?

Play your cards right, streets are mad, akh

Hold your own or be another blackjack

What, G? Top three niggas, know Krept is

Ain't old school? Then you probably won't get this

Madman Femz had it out all reckless

Banger and the mash and he done it with breakfast

Sprayed in the crib, man done it with Westwood

Out of the blue like bruddas in Deptford

Real Artillery, nuttin' was censored

Locking off raves, man are running through entrance

Got Gs in the ends too

My Gs, we offend too

You ain't buying no arsenal

Now you're who the docs need to attend to

Come a long way from me and Snap Capone

Tryna go country

Feds took the whip on a fuckery, left man stranded in Wooly

I could've strangled 'em, pussy

You ain't grabbed no shotties, clapped nobody

Catch no bodies, wrap no Bobby

Not my brudda, don't @ nobody

She sat pon cocky, no back, no doggy

Dead

Comment on my man's pics? You're a beg

Click-clack-blaow, watch niggas go death

Fuck that, right now, nigga, I'm vex

Contract signed, six-figure, no less

Stop holding your fist like Arthur

Like bro ain't got a ting for the drama

Switchblade get your wig shaved

Believe in your bloodclart barber

Black nigga chilling with corporates

Fuck who's feeling important

You brag 'bout whips, that's awkward

Your whip probably cost my insurance

I've lost my insanity

Bought a chain, I've spent your salary

My darg on savagery

They nicked my chargie for battery

Tally's back, it can't be

You just brought back the dark me

You just brought back Tsunami

[Verse 5: R.A.]

I'm the wrong one to test

Talk about grime, I'm the don in the flesh

I was carrying grime like a bomb in a vest

Get one out this ting make it launch in your chest

Now run out the gym when I let off the spesh

Kept the streets alive, I hoped for the best

Get the beef alive I cook it to death

The young Gs will ride they're looking to rev

When I come for man, they get shook to the death

Cause I'll lick one man down, then look for the rest

Spinnin' in the whip, spinner on my hip

Sittin' in the Bimmer, it's a ringer with a clitch

My darg hit the MAC-11 ringing like a chick

There's levels to this ting, he's a killer, you're a prick

You never put in work so you're different to my clique

Living in the bits, fidgeting with sticks

I know Den so I got it different on a brick

Winning on the strip, sinning like a prick

I know a lot of man kept wishing I was pitched

It's different when you're rich, legit in the whip

But I weren't so I had to whip it in a dish

Sitting in a crib, get rid of it in bits

I don't rate don how he's living like a snitch

Deep in the water, swimming like a fish

Catch him in a tower block visiting his chick

I make my brudda Rez wig him in the lift

I come from the era where I'm spitting off sticks

Running down paigons and kicking up pricks

[Verse 6: Konan]

Young G in a motor (skr)

21 with a poker

If he starts talking grease in Portuguese

All you'll see is Nike hoodies and Gola

If you see the gang, three-seater van

If you ain't armed, you're gonna need a hand

Hooded up in the corner

You'll see more than a borer if I beef a man

No dough so I sold dope on my old phone

Tote dro in a polo on my old road

No hope, when you go broke all the hoes go

No go, said they don't go from the postcode

No joke, you can hold smoke, get your clothes soaked

Those pokes when you got close to the coat holes

Won't know till you go cold and your soul goes

Don't know if you'll go home or you won't go

Hundred deep at Junior Jam

Country show ain't new to man

157 going People's Day

Have you flying off the bus like Superman

You said if it's on, better dial me in

Shots sound like a loud BM

You shoulda saw the kick on the Calibre

There'll be nothing but bones if the cal see 'im

These nerds ain't never done a hard day

I phoned up the plug, said I can't wait

You had six Os of the hard 'cane

I ate three Os but I half eight

Man talkin' bout beefin

All I see is man tweeting

Ting from Kilburn said she want children

So you better get on your knees then

Them man are all sheep

And you're looking at the GOAT

I might pull up in a Lamb

Monkey for the coat

I see pigs in my rear

I had cats on my phone

They had my dog on the wing

He done a bird, came home

[Outro: RA]

Khalas