Lyrics:
you are probably thinkin
That it's about time
The reggae scene and rap music
Must cross the line and party (together)
You might think I'm not for yard
know you hide some too
Messing with my head
Your like a artist with a bank canvas (Swirl)
Making me work with little effort
Yard boy you're a devil
Big scholar
Dutty crook
Yow st Mary
Mhhhmmm
Bang wi bang yi line fi a living
Bloody
Every day d killa dem press
Jus get a car
Issa house mi want next
spillin’
Callin’ on from the yard on FaceTime
Communicatin’ but it look like gang signs
Talk your broad into givin’ me some FaceTime
We ain’t
and talking slow,
afros & loud ass Italian clothes,
People bar-be-quein in the front yard
Money from the first of the month card!
[Eightball]
If anybody out
the bag)
Why these motherfuckers always in the front yard
Shootin' dice on the porch, them lil' niggas got them broads
Sale after sale, the cellphones
ding two 99s
G, I just give her the eye
Now juices flowing in panty-lines
Bro invested in county lines
Shrop' last night, woke up in a random yard
I had
Ready fi go a we yard
Sickning with the swag if a shopping
So you know we spend a bag like
A shopaholic with a black card
Loui catalogue When we a record
with the Banton stink
They fight for the belt like boxing ring
Had rocks in a hotbox ting
Tryna find new yards, no Foxton shift
Fifty-five-0 on a chopped
She was in the back yard
Say it was a little past nine
When her prince pulled up
A white pick-up truck
Her folks should a seen it comin'
It was
She was in the back yard
Say it was a little past nine
When her prince pulled up
A white pick-up truck
Her folks shoulda seen it comin'
It was
of who you think you are,
We're gonna play it by heart.
Come break out I'm in the front yard,
Break out of who you wish you were,
We're gonna play it by
your couch
And it's knowin' I'm not shackled
By forgotten words and bonds
And the ink stains that have dried upon some line
That keeps you in the back
ain't got no blues, got chickens in my back yard
(Yodel-ay-ee, lay-ee-ay, dee-yodel-ay-ee)
Got corn in my crib, cotton growin' in my patch
Got corn
Holly Street E8 was my domain
Pon the front line before the trendy came
And the corner shop man
They used to know my name
They used to cash the child
chieftain is my paw-paw
He gets his orders from my maw-maw
She makes him walk the line
You can find me in my wigwam
I'll be beatin' on my tom-tom
Pull
on the line, too much on my mind
Too much ain't enough for my plans
Nike don't pay me to tell you, "Just do it"
They pay me to show you I do it again
Huh?
And I'm still ride or die for the squad (yeah)
So you know which side that I'm on
If a battle line's ever drawn, but if I get involved
It'll be like K9's
your couch
And it's knowin' I'm not shackled
By forgotten words and bonds
And the ink stains that have dried upon some line
That keeps you in
your couch
And it's knowin' I'm not shackled
By forgotten words and bonds
And the ink stains that have dried upon some line
That keeps you in
Couldn't do nothing but laugh
Credit cards separating
White lines on a mirror
Roll a 100 dollar bill
Now my sinus all clearer
Flat screen porn
Let me tell you why I'm the king of grime
You write a hundred million different flows
I write that classical line to last me my whole life time
No
and it's all mine
Cant see you hoes blurry blurred lines
Pretty lil bitch snatched wasteline
I been drippy for a long time plenty digits and it's all mine
that's facts
Snapback backpack back pack
Ot lets trap lets trap lets trap
Used to put food on lines
Now its tunes online
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