Outta Here

Blud I can’t sing I’ve gotta rap my way out of here
Running through cling, I’ve gotta trap my way out of here
Blud I can’t sing I’ve gotta rap my way out of here
Running through cling, I’ve gotta trap my way out of here
Gucci backpack, blud I’ll bring the MAC out of there
Brudda’s getting clap-clap cah they’re living out of fear
Forward, no safety
I hope the Lord takes me
I’m feeling like to start a motherfucking war lately
Mama don’t you worry bout your premature baby
I’m feeling like to start a motherfucking war lately
Blue lights, feds coming in the distance
Brudda’s know Dirty I done come up inna Brixton
You better know how to rap or box or kick ball
If not blud you’d better get them bricks in
Product of the system
Catch me with my hoodie low, looking for a victim
I said catch me with my hoodie low
Riding in your Audi slow, bout to let my shit ring
Blud I can’t sing I’ve gotta rap my way out of here
Running through cling, I’ve gotta trap my way out of here
Blud I can’t sing I’ve gotta rap my way out of here
Running through cling, I’ve gotta trap my way out of here
I come up in Bricky with the yardies
You can catch Big Dirty blowing on the Marley
Remember getting bagged when I was sixteen
Sitting on two bags
Bail was like £30k, I told the judge remand me
Wallahi
Bad mood
Blowing on a fat doob
When you’re falling ain’t nobody gonna catch you
Man try rob my watch
Get stabbed by the same hand that it’s attached to
Come up in the jungle like Mowgli
You can catch Dirty unlicensed in the Audi
Blowing on the loudie
Got the windows up so the wizzer look cloudy
Driving out the county
Heading up to country, I got no CV
Listening to a couple of my old CD’s
I know my brudda Young Littlez from like '03 g
He put you in your place, that’s his OCD
Blud I can’t sing I’ve gotta rap my way out of here
Running through cling, I’ve gotta trap my way out of here
Blud I can’t sing I’ve gotta rap my way out of here
Running through cling, I’ve gotta trap my way out of here