Year Of The Real (feat. M1llionz, teeway & Pa Salieu)

(MKThePlug) (Sapphire Beatsz)

Dropped the last ting

Got everyone asking "What's with the mask ting?"

Is he wanted? Have they grabbed him?

Is he paid off this rap ting or is he trapping?

I got fans in the USA, I can fly packs in

But right now the mandem are goin' a mad ting

We got UK's cheap and eighths for the low

Three-five for five for the 'Dam ting

I paid three G's for the hand ting

Hit your block, fire, plant him

Free my G's on the landing

I can tell by the way that my man's acting

That he's never been locked for the mad ting

Lost it all and remanded

Sat in jail getting racks in

Connecting, came home

Got links all over the map now, I'm active

Takin' time in jail for some daft shit

My last one was good while it lasted

Ten quid on a Tuesday, stupid bastards (Mad)

Two kids in the bando, movin' backwards

Push flake till I'm paid, in the grave or landing

Guess I'm paid off trapping

If I get locked with opps, I'll rock my sock

I ain't chillin' with snakes on the landing (No)

I woke up switchin', pissed off at random

Probably cah my bitch never answered (Fuckin' hell)

I'm on FaceTime, tell my G go to the strip club and show me the dancers

Fuck the home of Her Majes'

I'll be home to my phone in a badness

Home to the roads, gettin' dope for my nanan

Amount of O's that a man make vanish

Shit I did for the dough, man are savage

Manchester, home of the gangsters

I don't trust Insta', my phones all bangers

Anything I do in there's all banters

If it weren't for the feds, I'd show you a madness

This ain't promo

If I post a pic with bro bro

Have the pop po doin' mad shit

In the pot with the yolo doin' backflips

Gotta TT the block and OT the magic

I gotta have it, must be habits

Rusty bangin', country slanglin'

Bunch of has-beens, you ain't ganging

Changed the game, better thank him

Changed the game, better thank him

Young rich shit, what the fiends and the fans did

The man at the desk just askin' me questions

No, Sergeant, I don't feel suicidal

Fans playin' my tunes on Tidal

While I'm tryna spend stream money on rifles

I dashed my phone, but I got it backed up

So I can't really lie, man, that SIM card's viral (True)

Next day I got my worker runnin' like Usain Bolt in Olympic finals

Reject to the duty solicitor, and went no calm it ain't rocket science

And this game ain't hot, it's fryin'

I ain't a ganja farmer, the crop keeps dyin'

I'm on the tick and the night boss spyin'

Won't get through this door how hard you try it

Barricade in case the power rangers raid and have man on basic diet

I just come out the station pissed in Morley's

Fans tryna ask for a pic, it's mandatory that I black out the whip

These tints help me blend when carryin' sticks

I hit the market town, shottin' twenties for tens, of course there's magic in it

Sent a broke ting to traffic a brick

Don't touch the suitcase, there's packets in it (Don't touch)

Kitchen ting to the training ground

They might have got big after football trials

I spent 7 on designer boots, old-school times woulda been Scott & Lyle (Brass)

Or, should I say, Lyle & Scott, that .40 did jam cah it had no oil (Greasy)

Known for shootin' machine in these slim-fit jeans

That's what you call pattern and style

That 50cc weren't blowin' no chase

Man had to get it de-restricted

Bro did the dash and my seat just lifted

Bust the red lights and the jakes just missed it

Fifteen bills, get the codes encrypted

For the PGP man might just risk it

And it ain't for no biscuit

Half box of B and roll brown Rizlas

They lock my block 'cause the junkies wired

I used to get coo off B-Lo

Come like Heathrow, the pack just fly

Verbal abuse from pussies

All for the cash, that's tired

Revolvers that bang, Pinocchio gang

Cah the whole of your gang, dem liars

Check it, ST livin' in cunch

He'll spend it on junks and the waigons too

Ten got ten tryna aim and shoot

This big brother and a skeng

We don't pay for fight like pay-per-view

S just let that bang out the German

I smack that like I'm in AE2

I don't know nothin' 'bout retail work

And I kept on jerkin' and takin' food

How could I get more weight to move?

I was so young, I was a weighty fucker

Two hands on a weighty brucker

Mum know I'm gonna be late for supper

Bro tryna rev it in H, you nutter

That's fifties wrapped to the 1G

I shoulda had paper planes

I hit the one-way, head right to the country

Thankful for the life that I got

Tight rock, Lira Galore and Jason

Buss out, march troops in cunch like Kaylum

Two hundred miles up north

Ain't Futurama, we need a space-ship

Smashing it out like colours

Back into town, never missed a patient

**** wanna be famous

M still painting the pave' like Banksy

Three tough knock on the door

Tell Roger to hide with Stan or Francine

Really shoulda made a plan B

Four fives off, now the junkies thank me

We ain't ever been Berlin

I was way too young in a German backseat

Lost his ****, thought he was Tarzan

Bare think you was just tryna facade man

M10 on the loose, that's loose, he's drownin'

Save him, get him a armband

I risked all my rights for bro

And I lost my rights when the cunts disarmed man

Now I need me a auto rents

Cah the stupid pig put me on a car ban

I put my time in the trap

I put my slugs in mashes

How many times was I under attack

How many times did I back out my ****

I showed him the was wad, it's passa

Young dark one gettin' moolah

Officer, I won't surrender

Free up my brother, that's K1

Free up my brother, that's Jojo

Free up my brother, that's Mason

Road all black like Jason

Free up Berto, they shipped him Isle of Wight

He's still holdin it down

I come from a side of town where you either eat or be eaten (Munch)

In the Hillside Strip we're So Raven

But we still got it in 'cause the risks we took

Did I get rushed? How many doorknobs must get brushed

I swing first and still left last

They see gun, shoulda seen their face

I see them flee, them boy feeble

I pree them snakes on my bird's-eye view

Came like eagle

With a militant power

Them boys sour can't be like me

Lizzy baby my wifey

I can't take treason lightly

I was in a Hillside Strip, I was sleepin' hour daily

Your girl say that I'm wavy

Oh I know I'm so wavy

The ghetto is what made me

Yo, the ghetto is what made me

Like hop out the Ford with force

Quick skrrr, better not fall

Dotty came long and tall

Hammer man down like Thor

Winnin' mad ting, still score and bore

Dip a mad ting, I might just ****

If a man try show no remorse

Show no remorse like 'llow all the verbal chat

Dem ah talk, dem ah talk, dem ah talk, dem ah talk

Till a boy gets whoosed, splash and that

Mish and mash in backpacks

And no man wan' war if he dead

Tribals, Nike Force gone red

Uh, could been ****

I came all dark like hmm