Don Strapzy - Fire In The Booth Part 1 lyrics

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Don Strapzy - Fire In The Booth Part 1 lyrics

Jones already told you 'bout my blue set Not in the gym with the bench but we do press I'm surrounded by nothing but true vets You're surrounded by p**y's, Hugh Heff In my head, no screws left And according to these mixtape's everybody shoots Tek's My don Deps, put one in a dude's chest Then co*ked it back once more, like who's next Ruthless, war ting I'll get my young dons to boot down your door king F a night job, catch em in the morning It's stretched back before bust, foreskin Poor thing, strallys ready Big five make him dive, Ravanelli I'm getting kinky with your girl I'll dress her up as a catwomen, Halle Berry Do this show 'em how to do that How to move bricks, show 'em how to shoot straps How to run up on a don for his loose cash I'll show you poodles 'bout my blue staffs I know we do, yeah my teams blue I'll do it by myself, I dont need you My don Jack Jones be a G fam And like two grands i'm a G 2 So don't speak rude I'll show you little flys how my bee's move I've got a ting fresh from Greece And if I squeeze believe you will meet Zeus I'm in the deep blue, where if you ain't talking money We won't understand you, Hebrew I let it off brudda We shot food from the corner, Costcutter By now you should know the G Had to link Nottingham darg Joey P Blue bally on my face when I role to beef Black hoody squeezed tight you won't know it's me You won't know it's I, we be rolling by Got a young don to my right with a loaded nine If it ain't money, don't phone my line You don't need a watch on your wrist, you should know the time You should know the squad and the kind of lengths that we take it to Just to get a hold of guap I might roll up on your block, with a loaded Glock Blue suit, blue mask, Robo Cop Lewisham that's a soldiers block My breddahs grind hide, we don't moan alot I got a load of dogs, bark at a man Get Ray J'd for your Kardashian Beef, don't think I won't finish When it's war, there's no limits Bulldogs, all British It be on for your whole village Leave a don Popeyed, no spinach Homevisits, patients on attacks Wait 'til he's alone, no witness Tell him it ain't personal it's all business Now he's dead like a party with no b**hes Now this man's higher, I dream to be rich and a land buyer But 'til then i'm a let the strap fire Like giggagigadee ha, Quagmire Little damn lier If I can't have Alicia Keys lord atleast let me have MIA Bust your knee caps like that don Keane So you don't wanna slip huh, Rob Green Don't count it wrong, it's a known fact i'm about it don You man are known b**hes, in your boys yard Getting your Brokeback Mountain on So stay away I will spray the place Run up on him with a big Mac, no mayonnaise Or run up on him with the coffee And prove that he's nothing but a toffee, Leighton Baines The queen, I'll squeeze for her I walk around with that something in my jeans for her I will cop the machine for her Cop to Glasgow and leave a don Aberdeen for her I'm a fiend for her, let the strap raw You should stop flossing and stack more Blatant, run up on a don for the Clayton, Blackmore Can't you see me I'm flying high Older G's salute when i'm riding by Taking it over seas, to other lands Try'na put more than couple g's in my mothers hand In the south side try'na make the pounds rise For the face man are desperate, housewives I'm just a young don living here Try'na go from a slumdog to a millionaire Yeah, the four fizzes its vicious here Love for my girls but its money over b**hes here I tell him it ain't personal its business here You can either be the fish or the fishes here So brudda choose your position Couple dons moving more loose than them women Nothing but the truth that im living Don Strapz Fire In The Booth are you listening We been out here, we don't talk They know what we're about here No, thunder and clouds here You'll get judged by your guns and your pounds here No mouse here Nothing but dingos, gorillas, apes, pit-bulls and hounds here Nothing get found here Best go run tell the cops when the souths here Why, cause we light up the place Don't smoke but the lighters in my waist Real G's that are doing crime for the face And the only time that you'll see us hide is from the jakes Life on estates I ain't slept I've been grinding for days Crime cause it pays No emotion, all thats on my mind is my wage Got money on my mind and a mind full of papes I've got a mind full of rage Evil thoughts in my brain Things that could get me life in the cage I love chicks but I don't grind for the babes I grind for my family, grind for my mates I grind for them kids that are frightened to wake Cause their old drunken dad said their lifes a mistake Yeah i'm out here but I ain't afraid Ca' I know the lords on my side 'til the grave And I know the lords on my side 'til my eyes close Even though i'm getting busy on these hype roads I was out here always had the Mac close All I wanted was the babes and some nice clothes But my lifes cold, yeah my lifes like a quest I be like a pirate trying to find gold But when it's dark don't be walking down the side roads Ca' I might be lurking behind walls I'm a young staff working beside wolves A lot of dons dont learn til their guys fall I put my phone down but crime called Look i'm just try'na make a living darg All I really want is the money and the women darg And a big pool for my family to swim in darg So F with my don Mitch You'll get left with a mark, Bosnich Can't speak to my squad I do this for my G's from the block I do this for my dons that don't speak to the cops Blame Rem, he took the leash off the dog Blame Rem, he took the dog off the leash I'm a beast, i'm here for the guap gotta leave I was raised on a block full of G's Where beef won't stop til your boxed and deceased Bare sh** talk, bag of lolly My dons got big tools that'll crack a lorry Yeah i'm savage, Robbie I got a team in the blue and i'm the boss, Ancelotti When I backed the shotty, man barked it Let the fat ba*tard sing, Pavarotti If I ain't got a strap, got a stabber on me Let the ting get noisy, like my man from Brockley Trust me I'll burst it off I'm low-key trying to swerve the cops And yeah i'm out on the grind but I won't moan Cause there's always people that's worser off I'm a OG, certed boss Won't stop til I'm dead or they bird me off And trust me I bought couple mixtapes Big waist of money, Berbatov