South London's finest, I was Lambeth raised
Yorkshire born, see me out in St Tropez
All I'm seeing is Medusa heads and
Grams of yay moving like a Porsche
I'm tryna stack a grand a day
All this paper makes you feel
Some type of way i might go and cop some
I'm flying yay, I'm flying straight
Diamonds clearer than the brightest day
Powder that I'm flipping got
Hour in the kitchen putting
Twenty-eights in plastic bags
Real boss shit, I get the trappers out
My swag's from Italy, my piff from Amsterdam
I'm blowing money fast like I jammed the bank
In the jungle with snakes
Real dope boy, I never ran no scams
This is volume two of Grams 2 Grands
I could end a rapper's career
I've been in these streets hustling
I'ma keep pumping if I make a girl my
Girl she better be stunning
Diamonds in my watches better be jumping
Light out of three onions
My work clean but my money ain't
I'm going hard in the trap
I'll start eating up the track
I'm still deep up in the trap
Going hard my G man are beating off straps
While I'm sleeping on a rack
I'm tryna get through a pack in half a week
My shottas getting rid of grams
I'm in the hood every day
I ain't hard to see i'm winning
Money spinning like a barber's seat
I spent more than a monkey on my dry cleaning
Jewels out every time it's sunny
The only thing I ever lacked was consistency
My money's up, I'm focused now, I'm back
Get clapped if you diss the team
Real trap stars in my presence
Adds to this British scene
UK rap's mine, I'll bring it back to life
Don't matter if you're black or white
I'm in the hood where all these youts
Itching just to slap a ting
Food flipping had my roof
Moving round this dirty world we live in
Gucci'd down courtesy of all
Got my own strategy, in my own category
You wanna talk but your money short
You can't chat to me hardest in the country
I've got supporters from London to Yorkshire