It’s all black when I think back
Now I’m dressed all black, where the things at?
Vaseline, the bricks and the cling-wrap
I’mma move state if the plug try and ring back
Break Down these Quarters like Kit Kat’s
Reporting Daily, I’m going back
Stuck up in a cell, where my Kids at?
I Gotta Man Up, cuz I owe ’em that
My Fam never know where I been, lad
Stuck up with the crabs; in the bucket. I been trapped
Cunts get tough with a gun, but they dumb
Like they don’t know, half of my homies have been strapped
Free Merks! Shout out to the Trapper Runnеrs
I was raised this way. Yeah, my Dad done it
Brainumb, from thе sh#t that I seen on these streets
Now my heart only beats if the jacks comin’…
Back to the flats, gotta grab somethin’;
Over and Over Again
Now nobody knows where I go, when I’m out on my own
But they won’t see me broken again
I don’t hear shit. No ears; Chopper Read
Goulburn Girls, they still doing drops for me
When I walk the street, there’s no rock on me
Cuz the cops, on my block, always stoppin’ me
They probably, try knockin’ me
Tell cats that I died in a robbery
But trust, nobody wants the beef
Cuz me and Jugada come to your f#ckin’ street
And Spinner got the Spinner, aye
45 Beretta, kid’ll hit you like a Dinner Plate
Me and Dude still rack sh#t from David Jones
Cuz we’d rather save dough, for our kids to take
One Time for the lads in the trap
One Time for the lads, sing it back
One Time for the kids doing crime
One Time for the cunts that is talkin’ to One Time
Find more lyrics at westlyrics.com
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