Tion Wayne, M24 – Knock Knock (Remix) Lyrics

Tion Wayne Knock Knock Remix Lyrics, Tion Wayne Knock Knock Remix Lyrics (feat. Jordan, Trillz CB, Turner (3×3), MIST, Sneakbo & HAZEY)

Mm-mm, yo
Hello, it’s the Glock, knock knock
Pen-peng ting wanna (Peng-ting wanna)
(Andy Broski Beats)
Bah, bah, bah

Hello, it’s the Glock, knock knock, who’s there? (Bow)
Buddy wanna do shop-shop, who here? (Ayy)
What you gonna do? (Ayy), stop-stop, who cares?
You ain’t gonna shoot that gun, you scared (Bah, bah, bah)

Pen-peng ting wanna, uh-uh
Got an African girl that wanna, uh-uh
Even got a Mali that wanna, uh-uh
Even got a Yardie that wanna, uh-uh

Even got a ten-ten called Britney
The trap house stinks full of Bobby and Whitney (It’s crazy)
Bando, took a bad B back with me
She keeps askin’ me why the cats so twitchy (Rattling)
Rashford, makin’ moves on the pitchy
Before this rap, they weren’t tryna pick me (Nah)
Spent a bag on a bag or fifteen
For the times when I never had shit, G (Trust)
Take off, ride this wave like the ocean
Break down packs, the weed comes in potent
If rap don’t work, the bando door’s open
No snakes bro, won’t catch me a rodent
And if rats get ’round, straight snap on the strip
That’s search and destroy and bro’s got a tool
Even got one from LDN
Keeps tellin’ me she wants to come back to the ‘Pool

Yo, I got Naija, yardies, Barbies, Malis
I don’t want love, just narni (That’s right)
I got drillers and trappers, serious booters
They don’t wanna dance in parties (How you mean?)
Shorty wanna chill with the big boys (Big boys)
Other side got bare bitch niggas (Bitches)
Brownie lookin’ all Zeze (Millz)
Tell her, “Come fuck with the rich niggas”
You ain’t gonna bust that gun, that’s cap
How man get beat up holdin’ a wap? (Haha)
See man tried ride and he got turned pack
See the get-back gang gon’ get you back (Get back)
You ain’t gonna brrt, you ain’t gonna bap
You ain’t gonna let that bah, bah
You ain’t gonna shoot, stop lying, lying
Lock and load, bro, get shit frying (Skeet)

Hello, it’s the Glock (Brah), knock knock, who’s there?
Buddy wanna do shop-shop (Mm-mm), who here?
What you gonna do? (Yo), stop-stop, who cares?
You ain’t gonna shoot that gun, you scared (Baow, baow, baow)

Pen-peng ting wanna, uh-uh
Got an African girl that wanna, uh-uh
Even got a Mali that wanna, uh-uh
Even got a Yardie that wanna, uh-uh

Spin it (Skrrt, baow), twinning (Skrrt)
Serena, Venus Williams (Grrr)
Knock knock, surprise (Bap)
You ain’t gonna shoot that gun, you civilian
You ain’t never did no dirt in your life (Huh?)
Just beat shots, now I’m hot, Dubai (Baow)
All of my opps numbers decline
Sorry, sorry, your girl wanna chill with the big boys, bad B holdin’ my .9
Sorry, sorry, step on your block inside like I just touched down in Nige (Baow, baow)
Suya (Brrt), or a lemonade (Mm-mm) (Huh?)
If I rise it, elevate
Watch how the corn make someone levitate (Bap)
Pree’d all of my opps tunes last year
And my shooter made more anyway (Bup)

Smash and crash and dip them
Skrrt, blue lights in the distance
In jail, yeah, I only had pictures (Ah)
Had to pattern parcels for the listeners (Had to pattern up, pattern up)
Institutionalised, I was trapped in the system (I was trapped)
Could’ve kicked ball for England (Ah)
But, I lied, it was hard
Yeah, I said I was injured (Yeah, I lied, yeah, I lied)
Boom, bang, kweff, he been movin’ left
Get Zinidine Zidaned to the chest
I don’t wanna start—, I don’t wanna start movin’ F’d
You little prick, get slept
Big broom get swept, you mug, you mess
I only cash big cheques, knock knock, who’s next?

Hello, it’s the Glock, knock knock, who’s there?
Buddy wanna do shop-shop, who here? (Mm-mm)
What you gonna do? (Yo), stop-stop, who cares? (Bow, bow, bow)
You ain’t gonna shoot that gun, you scared

Pen-peng ting wanna, uh-uh
Got an African girl that wanna, uh-uh
Even got a Mali that wanna, uh-uh
Even got a Yardie that wanna, uh-uh

My bird’s English but her back’s Jamaican
My Irish gyal talks Gaelic
Got a lot of women, my ex is hatin’
Glasgow girls my favourite
Bust two shots where the cops were waitin’ (I did)
That’s real rap, bro’s got the statements (Real rap)
Left the station, smiling, waving
Fuck the police, I fuckin’ hate ’em
Stevie got a big bird, brother, a little fat shit (Missed it)
Twenty-five year term ’cause he stayed active
Rap kids, put him in transits
Now he’s in Franklin, on the landing, he’s stranded
Cars get burned and abandoned
Hold man for ransom, brother, that’s standard
A lot of my friends gangsters, gang-bangers
Kidnappers, trappers, bruv, I don’t roll with rappers

What the fuck have you done? Don’t lack
I walk with my gun, so don’t try
– so I gave him a –
My Naija ting wan’ fuck with the guys
He holds it down, I ain’t gotta think twice
Make it knock, you won’t hear it jam
Beat up the nyash then fly to the sea
Can’t see them so they can’t see we
So how they rhyming? How they lie on streets? (How?)
In the function, we got our heat
And we got nuff gyal, nuff gyal turn freak (Uh)
Hit the bando, take one of each
Now it’s back to the ends, tryna get more P
We seek, they hide, they hide, no seek
They talk on us, they lie on beats (Liars)