Lyrics CGM – I Spy
Text:
Loose1:
Way back then didn’t know about smoke
Knew about kitchens, knew about flick things
Niggas wanna buy shoes and coats
All I hear bare lies and fibbin’s
Main road, back groves bare dippings
Said he’s on I
Fix up you’re trippin
Rambo cuh I don’t know about slipping
I know about trap
I know about glides with my siblings
I remember when the line weren’t ringin’ picked up a q and I went out pitchin’
You was indoor, salty, bitchin’
Undo the locks, free the guys in the prison
Get rich and ghost a mission
Stack notes and loads of the riches
Play by the rules, snitches get stitches, rich in your pics but bro you’re stickless
Flexing for the bitches, free up the guys in the cage like Nicolas
Its getting ridiculous, talking a trapstar, real life you ain’t with it
On who like what are you kidding, hungry boy and this beef’s delicious
Skengs on ped they panic, I mean skengs on ped they vanish
Ipp dip doo chase him man stab him
Delivery, deliver food I’m trappin’
Splasha:
I spy with my little eye I think I just clocked me a pagan
Oh shit, jump out the whip, do a man quick no traces
No time for a bitch man grind for the jibs, you out here kissing up faces
Done more than 6 shank up pricks then back to the flipping and trading
Feds took the g’s from us but they active, just heard Digga’s on basic
Girl try pouting her lips at me, someone tell honey she’s wildin’
You know when my team done the work, why? Cuh we just come back smilin’
First hear the spark, then you hear the bang
Come like thunder and lightning
Got so many man with the blade on road, that I forgot about fighting
Dem man there love cooch on the face, the gyal dem do know the riding
We done laps on your block that day, you was just inside hiding
Free J’Sav, step in a jam, cut a boys length then dash
Please don’t talk about dirt, I put in my work, why you think my name is Splasha?
JDF:
Get round’ there, ching man up, 1011 we don’t do no scuffs
Got a bad b telling me she want me I ain’t no jake man I don’t do cuffs
Enough time mans been round’ there, and civilians cause that fuss
So its straight back to the ends, where we do up trap and jugg
And how dem man talk about trap when they shot to jakes man they just some mugs
Enough time mans been in the field and a TSG van pulled up it was nuts
And mans been in the bando with cling, so you can’t tell man about grub
And bro got AM in bits, so you might as well call him the plug
Dippings in the field we don’t do no scuffs, ching man down make him feel it in his lungs
The cats phone me for the 1010 stuff, doing up trap footwork for the funds
Ebony ting and she wants my love, I just dogs that bitch then dust
Niggas talk bad but niggas ain’t tough, I been out here with smoke in the cut
Get round there man I 1011 bop, ching man down blades rip through tops
I can’t lack man I can’t get got, I been out on the block getting gwop
I will do it baitface on the mains, I don’t give a toss
And dem man be snitchin’, they be writing statements to cops