Swifta Beater - Straight Bars lyrics

[Intro: P Money] Live and direct Who's in charge? Live on mic, you know who's in charge Better tell the boy lyrics for lyrics I'm... [Verse 1: P Money] Yo, Lord knows I'm down for my bredrins you won't even see me snake or diss a peer You ain't listening properly if you heard disappear, bro I said diss a peer I'm at the back with the real Bale money, defending the one with the gloves to get it cleared The word to describe me is wired but I'm so far ahead, it's all blurry to them, it looks weird I touch mic and get cheered Them boy see TLC and get chaired I keep one of them flat out, there's no spares The moshpits at my gigs leave no one spared I drop tunes that get played and get aired Them boy there drop tunes and get aired Beef with me is like a race to the top You'll see a man get lift if he stares Hadn't regretten what the text said Never said a word, just got the Tec sent My ex-saviours don't wanna war me cause I'm the sickest out of her ex men Man can't send shots, I don't get them I chill with henchmen plus hench men So it's a next hype for an MC when your white gold chain tempts (Tempz) them Age 16 when I bus' case I was a crime director for f**s sake I was a rude kid acting like a camera man cause I will set up and get you shot in one take House parties, man was turning up at your mum's place I was jacking man for free when a man told me charity work makes the funds raise I try not to write anymore, the only time I write lines is when I tally up I was shotting deli in the alley from an Ericsson, age 16 picking Harry up Spin an MC round, 360 like you got the worst deal You can't test me, it won't work still The way I pa**ed it, man's straight Özil [Verse 2: Vortex] Hold on, it's Vortex Still in the hood, more or less Hitting up back roads daily There's a flag on the whip, Corvette I'll squeeze your pip, core strength They ain't got no heart, all pecks Dem man have got me creasing though Dorothy Cotton or Roger Moore neck Who's that? New gat Blu Tac, Vortex 2 2 wheels, war vet They say I'm way before my time Nah, fam, my flow's not been born yet This sh** don't make no sense They run in the beef, hit the gym Work everything and ignore legs Your bar dry, your flow's wet Keep up, are you listening? Hold on, that's a slow d**h They're like "Tex is co*ky, fam" He knows he's gone, that's a coke head I get two wheels and a little buzz That sh** sound like a moped Your boys lied, your flow's dead Uh, I move smooth around the clock, fam Got style like a Rolex Still screaming "Free Titch" Still in the hood like a cold neck You can't be grilling, I bring the mill in Still ain't heard one of them flows yet I've got a new gat, you never knew that That's so text They're like "Tex goes hard with the rap But I bet a n***a ain't grime no more" I'll clap your head clean off of your shoulders You can say hi to your spine, of course I don't believe them lies no more Man don't really wanna rhyme on war Man wanna talk to me about grime Where the f** were you in '05, '04? Where was you in '05, '06? I was the mic man round my bits I don't really care 'bout any MCs That wouldn't have gotten no high five off Titch I am it, fire spit Get a reload and a silent flick Man wanna doubt me, you can't doubt fire Go clean up your house, you prick