Know Dat (feat. Snap Capone)

We're the real talk in these streets (Streets)

We put London on the map (On the map)

I don't roll with no police

Rather roll around with my strap

Any **** snitchin' in my ends

Have to leave and can't come back

And all my ****, and all my ****

And all my **** know that

In the summer time

When the sun a-shine

And all my galdem look hot

Got a down bitch, if she's down with it

Might grow some weed in her flat

Gal tell me that she love me

And I tell them I love them back

And all my galdem, and all my galdem

And all my galdem know that (All my galdem know that)

Nothin' worse than a drought (Drought)

There's nothin' about (Nothin')

And you sellin' them zeds (Zeds)

Eight hundred an once (Money, hustle)

**** like me hear that (Click clack)

Run in your house

'Cause my **** run up for real

You just run up your mouth (Stop it)

I need half a box

And get the next half on consignment (What you mean?)

I'm gonna pay for half and get the next half on consignment

Slide six months and I know

The man can't find me (Can't find me)

They won't let me blow

So while I'm on the roads

I'll stay grindin' (Stay grindin')

Finesse that ****

Ain't nobody gonna stress me out

Somebody gonna stress that ****

'Cause when we left that ****

Half a brick dun left that ****

But they've been gettin' money for a long time

That's just a little set back, ****

We're the real talk in these streets (Streets)

We put London on the map (On the map)

I don't roll with no police

Rather roll around with my strap

Any **** snitchin' in my ends

Have to leave and can't come back

And all my ****, and all my ****

And all my **** know that

In the summer time

When the sun a-shine

And all my galdem look hot

Got a down bitch, if she's down with it

Might grow some weed in her flat

Gal tell me that she love me

And I tell them I love them back

And all my galdem, and all my galdem

And all my galdem know that (All my galdem know that)

Snap Capone

Snap Capone the black Mussolini

Got crack in the bottle ****, no genie

.357 when man's steppin'

Remix the brick then I'ma sell it

I'm countin' up this money

Thinkin' fuck the plug

I run up with a brick buj, a nine of dubs

Vivienne Westwood everything

My west t'ing ten outa ten

Afghan heroin

I stay lookin' fly in the name of drugs

**** talkin' beef but we know they soft

Finesse that strap, disarm that ****

I've got brick on con

And I ain't gonna pay that ****

Snap Capone from that south side

**** die when we ride

Hollow tipped in that G9

I'm on that east side of that London

Fields ****, shit's real, ****

Skrr', skrr' in that Porsche ****

Headshot blood spill, ****

Got a bad B poppin' pills, ****

We're the real talk in these streets (Streets)

We put London on the map (On the map)

I don't roll with no police

Rather roll around with my strap

Any **** snitchin' in my ends

Have to leave and can't come back

And all my ****, and all my ****

And all my **** know that

In the summer time

When the sun a-shine

And all my galdem look hot

Got a down bitch, if she's down with it

Might grow some weed in her flat

Gal tell me that she love me

And I tell them I love them back

And all my galdem, and all my galdem

And all my gal dem know that (All my gal dem know that)