Video de February - Whateva Da Weatha

[Verse 1: Ramson Badbonez]
I've got my winter coat, hoodie hat and gloves on
Waiting at the bus stop
Thinkin' its not blatant as I bust shots
Ruff, what!?
Crouching on the stair case
Shottin' robbin' bare face, mockeries
Nobody comes to their aid
Present day!
February she’s here, so we'sees the leap year
Hide away that secret stash and keep clear
We fear!
Nothing, not a damn thing
Pulling out like ham strings
Makes you wanna flip out, click clack
Bang bang!
Pressure got my blood pumping
And running and drug juggling
Which I am currently gun smuggling
Fake scams!
Credit cards and cashbacks
Gameplan he's name-brand
Selling g's and getting keys for free bags
Hard food!
Deep in from a tall block
Freezing my cock and balls off
Seein' three crack fiends, packed in one call box
Weed cakes!
Put in on the big scales
Bag it up and make sales
Get back on your hustle, grizzle
Whatever!
Trouble making younger lads
Guns in the plastic bags
And back packs for fun cutting slags
Dog flats!
Currency or coke racks
You might get your throat slashed
Watch your back the feds have got your phone tapped
Reckless!
A bundle of teenagers
Under police surveillance
We don’t give a fuck
We're smotherin' the pavement
Think fast!
I was rarely in class
Can't you see that shit's hard
So I am on my hustle, grizzle
Whatever!
[Hook: Gadget]
We're born in the b's so I'm never gonna stop
The euros, dollars, p's, I'm gonna get a lot
From sun-up to sundown round through to whenever
No resting whatever the weather
We're born in the b's so I'm never gonna stop
The euros, dollars, p's, I'm gonna get a lot
From sun-up to sundown round through to whenever
No resting whatever the weather, yeah
[Verse 2: Mystro]
In these unfriendly streets
Munching on some jelly beans
Hungry as a he'll ever be, he's looking for that
Go steal!
Till it comes he won't chill
A crook becoming so ill
He's looking at some road kill
Like "maybe I should
Grab that!"
Lost everything he had
Stashed, he left that in his backpack
And kept it in his nan's flat
His bredren must have
Nabbed that!
He worked like a lab rat
The first sign of that cat
He swears he's gonna flip out, click clack
Bang bang!
He's troubled 'n' juggled and in drug smuggling
But someone done him in
Now he's stuck in the slums, suffering
Without rules!
The scoundrel, who used to have a house full
But now new reduced to lacking mouthfuls
He's doubtful
He'll get his cash!
Back to where his two-faced brethren's at
Spending then forgetting that he soon may regret the flash
He didn't run
That pistol on the victim's gonna sing a song
But 'til it's on he'll get back on his hustle, drizzle, whatever
[Hook: Gadget x2]
[Outro: Ramson Badbonez]
Racist feds, fucked out kids
[?] out chicks stunk like shit
[?]