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BLOW YA TRUMPET (feat. Knucks, Ghetts, Akala & Kojey Radical)

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歌词
Yo

They say no man is an island

But I left island

Had to do my ting

If I sense any sign in your eye that you're trifling

It's bye no fussing or fighting

Seen all they drops the same already

Seen all buss downs and chains already

Save your drip, made it rain already

Pissed off 'ca my cup couldn't take more henny

Let's discuss it

Wanna tell lies to the public?

Cool, if you like it I love it

But true, I'm that guy in the function

Spit fire leave shit alight like a Bunsen burner

Man will grill beef, you don't want this burger

Money filthy, a disgusting earner

Wordup

That's ya luck it's gone further

Do a man like Klashnekoff it's (murdеr)

Getting dough on the front end

Can't takе man for a prick, no thorn

I don't need no horns I blow my own trumpet

Thank road for the funding

Only bro knows how it's rolled into hundreds

Lizzie gone rogue, pink notes in abundance

Did all my bicep curls and my lunges

True say, you ain't yourself when you hungry

Coldest

I don't know how you ain't noticed

Without Ghetts there ain't no list

Your new shit's like my old shit

Your old shit was just so shit

Hold it

Who wants smoke?

I'll roll it

Who wants rope?

I'll hold it

Let's play hangman

How do I know you ain't got no hearts?

X-ray and scan

Them man haven't been transparent

But I know the minerals they've got missing

Indirects after indirect

Just bare subliminals they've got written

I don't wanna play fill in the blanks

I'd rather play fill up the bank

Easy, think of a plan

Meet me, pick up a shank

BP, fill up the tank

I was in the cold, no comfort

Grade 8s in music that's why I can blow my own trumpet

What you got?

I got news for the public

What else?

I got views for the pundit

I'm a sellout, I ain't got room for a hundred

I can only look down on people who gossip

I stay 22 rumours above them

F**k them!

Yo

When the beat intro drops and you're screwing your face

And you're blowing your top

A shot no fighter could block

A weight nobody could spot

Beats, we are burning 'em

London to Birmingham

'Course you have heard of 'em

Fellas are shellers

We're perming them, permanent

Jump from this plane but diss man for the turbulence

Plane we observing on so far above that it gets kinda burdensome

They are not ready for shells that we're serving them

Food for your thought like I'm swallowing, murdering

Gurgling on your own blood and it's curdling why

Your stomach is weaker than wurzle is

My word on it

I'm earning it

These scriptures I speak they're just learning it

Street shit in deep shit

Like Ancient Egypt and 3 clips

Like read this and take in your teachers

If he flips then break face of idiots

He's quick to make pace 'cah he's sick

And these pricks they gave chase but he slips

Not a day in your life, I tell you these grips

Blood they grip on the track better than V6

And when I've written a rap, I'll tell you these dicks

They couldn't bust if they gave em 3 chicks

A whole load of crumpet

No bro, you don't blow your trumpet

I roll over dunces

I throw loads of punches

Dickheads are lunches

Back, back, gimme space, gimme

Got God, got Jah with me uh

Why the devil wan' war with me?

Why the devil wan' spar with me?

I been around, been around for a sec'

I need TLC like left eye

When shit got peak man left, I

Now my heart turn black like Wes Snipes

Sniper

Watch a man shed skin like viper

Drop 2, 2 bars when I like her

No coming back like rikers

All that drip but you're not impressive

Spark my thoughts, pen my lessons

Man can't talk too much 'bout blessings

Them man there might think I'm flexing