Friday to Sunday
Cadet, SHAKKA
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Everyone, oh I, oh yeh yeh
Everyones like
Buss my gun Friday
R.I.P Sunday
Buss my gun Friday
R.I.P Sunday
They pour it up, stir it up for the like
They don't know about, know about road
But everyone's like
Buss my gun Friday
R.I.P Sunday
Buss my gun Friday
R.I.P Sunday
They pour it up, stir it up for the like
They don't know about, know about road
But everyone's like
Look, see I understand, Cadet, yeah man understand
You see everybody wanna bang bang
And shout gang gang
With a couple man
Swear them bruddas
Man they fake their life
Want the road but don't want the can
Bruddas, bruddas, bruddas want my number
You can't get it, but your brother can
Nah man cadet cadet I go, beef to set it, set it you go
Oh, you're a calm guy and then a mad man
Man I get it, get it,
You hope, see I'm a calm guy and I'm muslim
I took a girl, and now you want beef
Telling me I should know better, but taking babies are haram beef
See I didn't think we'd have shit in common
But we've actually got some
See you listen to a little uzi, we've actually got one
So Scarface before you get em going
But the Road life, man you haven't chosen
Getting gassed over empire, now you're lighting with your cookie on
Its mad
Everyones like
Buss my gun Friday
R.I.P Sunday
Buss my gun Friday
R.I.P Sunday
They pour it up, stir it up for the like
They don't know about, know about road
But everyone's like
Buss my gun Friday
R.I.P Sunday
Buss my gun Friday
R.I.P Sunday
They pour it up, stir it up for the like
They don't know about, know about road
But everyone's like
Captain spice on ice
I just wanna feel alright
I ain't the stuntin type
I just wanna beat em bright
Thrustin' the way some more
Show her what slow dances for
She wants the D from all the rap lords
He wants to be like all the rap stars
Pick up the person like the landlord
But he packs his ex, and knows the reload
Where does he come from cotton eyed Joe
I'm just trying to find my size and a nice pair of double G's
I don't care about stripes and things
Man I care about stripes and jeans
Don't run a boy from the ops round me
I beg you understand, my G
Coz your night lifes that road side
And that night lifes TV
Yeh I hear what your saying my G
Hate when they act like thugs round me
Beggin, them man are on the temp,
Yeh there
Day one you've been
Cadet Cadet Cadet Cadet
You should know bro,
Old school like killer MO JO
Stuck on you, just to go pro
Stick in the air that's a pole volt
Aint done jack for your postcode
Cool came back that's a no no
I got a boy from the yellow brick road
Who will click and send your dog home
That's toto
You buss your gun
You are gansta
You trap trap
You are trap star
You are a joke man
You are prankster
No G's, in the unit
You are wankster
Don't live that life
You an actor
Have coke on your face
Its a Fanta
Into a shot
That's blanka
Fam its mad how
Everyones like
Buss my gun Friday
R.I.P Sunday
Buss my gun Friday
R.I.P Sunday
They pour it up, stir it up for the like
They don't know about, know about road
But everyone's like
Buss my gun Friday
R.I.P Sunday
Buss my gun Friday
R.I.P Sunday
They pour it up, stir it up for the like
They don't know about, know about road
But everyone's like
(they don't know like)