M Huncho Warzone Lyrics (feat. Headie One)
Got this shot gun I got it sawn off
The nostrils long so we gave it a nose job
24 hours, I ain’t had no sleep, I got ptsd, I can’t see myself fall off
Who done all them drills that the opp boys talk of?
We play foul so the ref took the ball off
Bro said “Focus on making bread”
But we always end up with toasters
You know what I do to the smoky
Treat that WD40 like baby Johnson’s
Bought a baby 9 for the tour bus
And a G17 for the nonsense
North london is a war zone
Ask my broski **** who’s gonna go get the dinger from top stuff
It’s meant to be uptown funk, Mark Ronson
I ain’t here for the nonsense
Who’s on me?
I’m on them
G lock holds 16, I can spit this verse, leave 16 on them
My thumb’s so numb from the reload
130 kilos
Buy my weight when I go grab reloads
In the hood I’m an icon, Figo
Louis V in the trenches
Fedora, and a peacoat
Two G’s on my off day
I’m Gucci
That’s the g code
Pocket rocket came little
That’s baby
That’s pino
If you want that consign
Need your mum’s address
Fuck a depo
I was in my front room with the Nina
Yola, turn pop city to a corner sofa
Grandaddy hat and a Motorola
But it’s meant to be 017
17 years of age in Feltham
I ain’t ever go Wetherby
Yo, course I fell in love with the T
Produce some notes, Remedee
Put my wrist in liquid nitrogen
Blow trees like fuck the environment
In the crop house, bring in China man
My old friends have no entitlement
Fake love to me is frightening
They wonder why theres violence
Made a mill’ from jumping on mics again
Counting up is getting tiring
And I don’t need to ride again
Pay 5 again
Let the squad get firing
Let the big ting rise again
They don’t worry about sirens
And I’m wanted by Trident
‘Cause my man got hit with the stub
But he thought it wasn’t written in the stars like Tinie
We can’t part ways up on IG
I’ve got one million opps
But this money make it hard to find me
I can’t believe what this envy and jealousy cause so much rivalry
Why you think I don’t stop at the lights
‘Cah I’m feeling like Biggie Smalls in the 90s
90s baby
Noughties made me
Trap house crazy
This shit made me
They envy, they don’t wanna see me win
It’s a shame ’cause they all coulda been legit
Free the guys on the wing for real, for real
Coulda been me for real, for real
Jump on the stage it’s all surreal
Came from the bando for real, for real
Cartier bangles for real, real
Cartier bangles for real, for real
My pockets expanded for real, for real
I’ve really seen it get real
Bro left his prints on the handle for real, for real
We tryna get balance for real, for real
Some for the cause, some for the thrill
We went to war, no time to heal so we ain’t got handled for real, for real
Put my wrist in liquid nitrogen
Blow trees like fuck the environment
In the crop house, bring in China man
My old friends have no entitlement
Fake love to me is frightening
They wonder why theres violence
Made a mill’ from jumping on mics again
Counting up is getting tiring
And I don’t need to ride again
Pay 5 again
Let the squad get firing
Let the big ting rise again
They don’t worry about sirens
And I’m wanted by Trident
‘Cause my man got hit with the stub
But he thought it wasn’t written in the stars like Tinie
We can’t part ways up on IG
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