P Money - Mug lyrics

[Verse] Yeah, yo Indirect and I will direct man to your house I guess I weren’t lying, cuh man came round to your studio when a man couldn’t find your house Fans were like “P, what’s all this about?” I smacked him up for a diss that wasn’t even out Had him holding his head like “How’d he find out?” When I asked what you were saying you couldn’t find your mouth In fact Joseph when I ran up in your studio you was like “Huh?” (bow!) Dazed You was like “Wait!” (bow!) Dickhead, shut your mouth (bow!) Now you’re putting on a show about how you’re gonna get at me now but at the time of getting banged in your face your show was I’m a celebrity get me out Man doubted me and wanna bread me now No, stay over there (mug) When I got a crack and he ran (mug) Never even pulled out the shank (mug) I just stamped on the bredda and skanked (mug) I swear down ask him what he done, in fact ask him if he even swang back once About two against one, this was all before you saw Blacks you mug Last guy that rivalled me got spun I ain’t even gonna tell him how the other got done, cause you got done the same way you punk, you b**hes ain’t on sh** [?] I don’t wanna hear no lyric about one bag of guns Smacked up bare times and got back no one And you ain’t never backed no one With that CV I wouldn’t back to back no one Oi Dot, you are not holding a gun you got boxed

All you do is phone everyone You’re worse than my old groupies, man held a beating, went online and then he told everyone Young Dot, Dot Rotten, Zeph Ellis, Big Dotti all smacked up and then rolled into one Man said he ain’t snitching so what was you doing when you told everybody You’re trying Stop with the ga**ing and stop with the lying You’ve been moist for years, well now you ain’t drying Talking the hardest like we don’t remember when Desperado had you in the basement crying Thought it was your time, you thought you was dying Cause you know what one of my guys get like with the iron Calling for help begging a man to save you from where I’m sitting that’s a lot of relying You were like 29, grown men don’t rely You don’t want this smoke brudda don’t lie Thought you was a gun man, months have gone by and all you’ve done is huff and puff and write Oh my god bro, Jesus Christ How you getting boxed up in the same place twice? Thought you would jump in the whip and ride, instead you went home with your forehead iced Lusardi asking if you’re alright Dunno bout you but had a good night Montana mode, but you ain’t ever pushed white You’re a jumper, you’ve never been a hood type Bro this like Marlo from The Wire going up against a man fresh out of Brookside Thought you was going on dread, cut man and left man with a short, back and sides