Can someone tell me does this feel real? Little Frenchy weren't the real deal Lying 'bout his brother Don't believe him. It's all spilled milk If I saw him, then I'd wrap him like a meal deal Grab him by his collar, scruff his hair up, make him feel ill Little white boy, acting gully. Needs a chill pill Hanging 'round with people for the image. It don't feel real Just go to laugh and keep the real sealed Just silly little cunts How could you ever fucking kill Bill? Never could they kill me Had to see my brothers die from heroin It's filthy Like "Fuck! I feel so guilty" The streets. They never built me I swear they made it worse First, it was my aunty Then my brother in that fucking hearse Think I'd lie about the stupid little life I lived? Move to England. Show my cousins all the knives I hid And all the ones they bought I remember days when I was shooting out the window With his rifle when I was feeling bored But you wouldn't understand 'Cause you're just such a little gangster in your head I guess you lived on your Instagram Six foot. Two face. Scars from the scraps I've had Stone-cold eyes from my battles Like I'm Galahad or maybe Lancelot I'm pretty handy with my sword But you can't ask a lot Pussy, go and dance it off I raise a glass to God If they knew just how it felt to be a Catholic when I'm from, you'd keep it out your gob I got Saint Michael on my shoulder through my darkest times Been through war. I've held a body Now, my brothers died Your life's been hard, but your excuses eat you up inside My life's been tricky, but shit happens. I just grab the mic Close my eyes Hear you laughing in the background of this image in my head, when you were still alive Stars align I've got courage in my blood I'm the descendant of a King that's on my mother's side And when I get a hold of a gun I wanna shoot my rival straight in his lungs And drive away to the sun Sorry, mum. I know you listen I'm done I guess I'm working on myself, when I run But I'm a crazed little cunt Might be smoking a blunt Or maybe fighting for fun If you knew my situation, then it's father to son My older brother was drunk But even he had more about him than these industry bums The party's only begun Sorry, Obi. have I said something wrong? Don't want to start to hurt their feelings with the bars in my songs Don't want to hit them in the nerve and tangle up with their thongs 'Cause I can mix a bath with acid, if it ever goes wrong Grab the fucker by his legs and bring them others along And then I chuck them in the potion like I'm Wizard of Oz Fuck it I'm only messing, of course If you're my enemy, then strengthen your doors Unless you're ready for war It's funny how I felt this way from the start The cheeky fuckers never played in a part But still they ask in advance All the favours I create in the dark But when I'm lost, they can't relay me a path I just sit back and I laugh Grab the Mrs a glass Might stick on the television while the zoots getting past Hold a marvelous arse All my life I've walked towards the mirage And I ain't stopping like affordable cars I'm a G. Not a star I'm a G. Not a bag I think the parents didn't realize, when they dropped on their head 'Cause if you think you're getting rich from masturbating in bed Then you're a silly little prick that never see the success I made a way for the rest Every track I molest Used to shot along the ocean with some pussy like a pest Fuck a snitch to the death It's been a difficult year But I ain't stopping for no typical tears I grab a spliff and a beer