Lyrics CGM – Next Up, Pt. 2

Jakes just passed, hope they don’t do a U-ie
OT, I don’t like doing deals like Louie, bad B like boujee
Upsuh with two g’s, like Gucci
Pour kettle water on it, watch it start bubbling
Straight drop, I ain’t doubling
Use your chest, stop mumbling
Bro I’m booky, I’ll take your food if my belly starts rumbling
They rap about bootings, they ain’t blammed nobody
Hold that properly when I bang that dotty
I put sniff in a ‘rex, and I slang that bobby, TT make it bling, always answering my hottie
Left my worker in the trap
While I flew to the town on pedal bike, just to sweep some more cats
They ain’t seeing no racks
I’m in and out of the trap
I left the door on the latch
When I add it up, take a oner off with the shorts
I’m a 0-1-1 but most of them are noughts, fuck jail, fuck Jakes, fuck courts
Drilla got 12 cah he turned something corpse, crasses
What’s all the hate for?
Is it ’cause I’m making dough? That hate only push me to make more
I smash b, whip coke, smoke loud, whip a Z, 26 back, no doubt

T.Y:
Feds know my face from the days when I sold buj
Comfy in my ends and I got beef in my own hood
In the trap, left cracks on the floor like Hulk would
Gyalie said she like me ’cause I’m sweet and I’m so hood

Hospital
Nose full of tubes, got yourself shanked up cah your bros wanna screw
MSkum in the back, that’s a problem for these yutes
Ten toes, what? Where? Don’t get run out of your shoes
I get busy on my own, I get busy on the roads
Keep on braggin ’bout them Z’s, ’til I clean out your home
Gotta keep my face down cah Sini’s kinda known
Cah my hood’s like a jungle, no Indiana Jones
Me and F was in the trap, you was busy getting plaits
When your bro got touched, did you even chip in for a strap?
When I hopped off the ped, they did a 100 metre track
If Huncho never stabbed it, then it’s probably my nigga Dappz
Took you 20 shank wounds, now you’re only bringing waps?