It’s Madara Beatz
SebzBeats, baby
Ay, R.I.P BD, R.I.P GDotz
R.I.P Amro
Madara
Gangsh*t, you already know what it is
You know the folks still sliding though the 4
AGB sh*t
HRB sh*t, free the guys
HRB, G, you know the pattern
If I ain’t shelling the 6
I’m rambo gripping with Fred in Hattons
I’ve seen man run and trip
The nine or the dots leave your headback splattered
Most of my opps are azzis, I don’t really care ’bout “Black Lives Matter”
Spin the coupe, demons in traffic
Know my AGB’s will bang it
Them man try laugh and diss, but I swear TBoy just got damaged
Spin through P block, watch them vanish
B1, hop out, try turn man cabbage
I’m hurt, but rest up BD
Why? Cah my broski was a savage
Yo, remember conning a halfie?
Now my pyrex just filled up with Charlie
Lighties ain’t feeling this Mali
I stay making bread with my chargie, wallahi
I went jail, came home, grabbed my gun and bells
Turned my phone on, put a brick on the scale
Regular check ups, I can’t take a L
Get nicked with this re-up, I ain’t getting bail
Got man in the ends cuffing fat tings
Just to have a yard to lock waps in
Man can’t tell me about hand tings
Firing squad nearly had Sus and T.Scam baking off on the landing
Catch me in the trap, breaking down a 4s
Or helping AKid put a box in the draw
Cats say I take long, take four for a score
Big .45, I’m ready for war
Them man get hurt when we speak on works
‘Cah we put guys on the news
HRB, AGB, turn man pack, made ’em pour up juice
Try diss, we will roll on you
Two guns up, like Denzel who?
Try run, tell broski “Shoot”
Back to the ‘Zart, let me roll up Gucc’
“Drillings on drillings”?
God damn, they must be kidding
We got down half their batch in the flats, how dare they call us victims?
Buck into opps and turn them flavours
Them man sh*t with their shavers
‘Nuff of them got done with the stainless
We tarnish them, now it’s back to the papers
I pull up, take off and skid
They know where I’m from, red bricks
No, I do not f**k with the 6, 6, 6, ‘cah all of them pricks
Demons devils, my youngers are sick
Rambo grippin’ in Harvey and Nichs
Lord knows, I don’t lack
LD keeps a stick, I know it’s not right, but it’s wrong if I slip
Free the gang causing hell on the block
Them n***as ain’t Crips, they’re washed
You chat about leaving your right hand, but you ran when ZK got chopped
I don’t know why these patties are lost, lost, lost
These patties are lost
Two hands, I’m spinnin’ their block
I walk with the smoke, so don’t get popped
Chop down a dotty, load up the hand ting
Free Hitman, making racks on the landing
Bagged up a four and a half while standing
Patterned the ends, now I started expanding
I done my time, they let me go
AR got birded, I feel it for bro
Press the bujj, whip up the snow
If you’re talking about guns I let mine go
I’m AGB, why you asking questions?
I need me a Glock with a long extension
Been through things that I cannot mention
Trap ’til I die, I don’t need a pension
They took BD and that left man hurting
So the ding-dong still be swerving
Stay at home, me and Babz are lurking
Sweep up the cells so the young G’s serving
Them man get hurt when we speak on works
‘Cah we put guys on the news
HRB, AGB, turn man pack, made ’em pour up juice
Try diss, we will roll on you
Two guns up, like Denzel who?
Try run, tell broski “Shoot”
Back to the ‘Zart, let me roll up Gucc’
“Drillings on drillings”?
God damn, they must be kidding
We got down half their batch in the flats, how dare they call us victims?
Buck into opps and turn them flavours
Them man sh*t with their shavers
‘Nuff of them got done with the stainless
We tarnish them, now it’s back to the papers
It’s Madara Beatz
SebzBeats, baby
Madara
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