Letra de Take 1

[Producer tag 1: JM00]
JM double O baby

[Producer tag 2: BKay]
Bkay on the beat

[Intro: Miles & Kadz]
Say that again init
Say that one more time init
Go on say something! What?
What, you're a big man now yeah Kadz?
Is that you?
Shut up
What you gonna hide now, huh?
Pull a knife out for me, yeah?
For me?
Miles for me bruv?
We're family bruv
I'm your boy
What the fuck? You ain't my boy
You ain't my brother
Opp
Snake
Using man to get what you want-

[Verse 1: Loosescrew]
Splash him, got that from O thats bro
Man got sweets on sweets that's Randoms
Get dropped from the crew your backing
Big dots from the yardie man
No homo boy hold back him
Blow out back it
We Moscow march and then grab him; nab him; hold him up for that ransom
My brothers act up and stab it
Like
Hold it up and then mash it
Like baby girl just don't dance
All holding on to my jawns; garms
Russians out of them cars
Like back to the money and fame
Them Zone 2 boys just lame
Big Russian rambo insane
Like how the fuck that's your bae?
Last week she topping of brain
Still mention nothing else changed
Creep, dark knight like I'm Wayne
Opp bumbaclart like I'm Taze
Screwloose, yeah that my main
We trap mash and then stack
Racks, racks on them tramps
That all we see for them bands
Like what you mean you're on gang?
When my phone rings I'm missing
Sam calls thats a killing we dice down for them digits
Then bruk down for that business
Don't ever talk about drilling
You ain't got no teeth they're your filling
Like my white boys I'm livid
Done jail time for some snitches
Invest in shit that matters
Not shoes and chains for the 'Grammers
Invest in shit that matters
Not shoes and chains for the 'Grammers
Beefing Russians with no whackers
Beefing Russians with no whackers

[Verse 2: SP17]
Man I'm so fucking fed up
Tired of all these liars
I bring him down so many times
Can't lie man I'm fat and I'm tired
Treat my nigga broad day
Can't lie that's a real life rider
And them man ain't no fucking F-boy
But your man's just a fucking striker
See the coldest flow in my ends
Ain't nobody colder than my brudda
I heard they got problems with me
See those hollow tips follow my brudda
Remember days that I found my strap
Sorry that ask Filly what's that? (what's that)
Sorry that's my .44 long
I'm sorry Dad that I copped this mash (sorry Dad)
But I got beef in my ends
Got real beef with big men
Seen them squeezing on them
Tryna hit neck and his chest, we ain't stopping till one of them's dead
Ayy
It's a black liar's Justin Bieber (skrr)
'Til we skrt round in a 3 litre (skrr)
If my baby mum looked like yours, then I wouldn't like my life either
Tired of all these weekenders; so-called gangsters - pretenders
What the fuck you think they call man Moscow?
Cos they got more skengs than members
Driller get more teeth than dentist
Do you see that clip, extended?
Young boy whipping Alan Sugar
Can't lie, young G, my apprentice
Yo