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Red Riding Hood
Clavish
Popularity ยท Low
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๐ฌ๐ง English ยท Original
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Lyrics
Original
Translation
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I got weapon on tap, when and if you're ready
40 pieces, glocks and semis
I made Polydor millions of pounds, literally
I should've been rich already
I'ma drive past if I see (huh) walkin', lackin'
Rashford's a snitch already
I know A is trigger finger happy
I'm probably gonna cop a clip extended
Them ZK knives ain't bendin'
Free smoke, not from Benson
He don't do drills, just bench him
How many waps did I buy before I thought about buyin' a pendant?
How many walkin' packs still pendin'
I can get bars of chocolate penguins
Uptown where I go crazy, spendin'
I go Hatton and catch the flu
What I'm not runnin' to is Lemsip
If the charge ain't murder, at least attempted
You ain't done neck, chest, belly, and back
Back, belly, and chest, not many get tested
Givin' out testers
If he can't drive, I'll be givin' out vespas
Don't lose breath, tryna run for your life
Sold food on my block with blood on my knife
Taped pagan strips whilst runnin' a line
Stop the song if you heard me tellin' a lie
Yeah, that's what I thought
I just made her head hot, all the stuff that I bought
You wear bally's but tell me what you done for the war
I wear bally's with fame, I ain't tryna get caught
Prolly in the LV store, dropped ten, 20, and more
I made the hood that I banged for hot, way before K-Trap made Warm
Don't ask if I'm sure
I give hoes sore throats
It was a fiend that taught me how to whip coke
All my jeans Amiri
Slide opp block, it's never me that's steerin'
Couple of times, could've got me nearly
Rick Owen, Givenchy, that's what I'm wearin'
My diamonds clear, you can see that clearly
Hoes think I'm a trick so none of them air me
And I got old friends, can't none of them hear me
Used to look up to a couple of rappers
I mean, look up to a couple of cappers
And their entourage ain't denyin' they're cappin'
Ask Melly or Keeks if I care about care 'bout cameras
Day-Date bread, what I put in for hammers
Day-Date on my wrist but it glide not tick
Got here 'cause of talent, not ridin' dick (littleโ)
Little old me was sick
No ins on the whip that I'm ridin' in
Turnt my fave opp little red ridin' hood
CC flap bag, but she knows I'm toxic
My young 'un turn blade colour red not brown
So don't let him hear you got bags and boxes
50 a show, but the fans gon' moshpit
She already know when I nut, I'm offski
Unless she suck it up properly, then it's a problem
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