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lirik lagu no pretending – bis (harlem spartans)

m1onthebeat
g8

(intro 1: bis)
most official steppers, levers on and its pressure (pressure)
eat a drop up in seconds, i’m jugging out did i mention?

(intro 2: st)
most official booters, we don’t even need to mention (baow)
whole gang’s on things, you either trap or squeeze in my section
(intro 3: bis)
are you really ’bout it, don’t question, n*ggas adding k’s for attention
(?) when i press that ting, bare smoke boys in my section

(intro 4: st)
we drill and trap our profession, all this smoke and corn is expensive
we really ’bout this life, nah, we don’t do no pretеnding

(verse 1: g’smarko)
cop that, put one in thе skeng
cop that, put one in your men
shotgun, no handting my ting, madting, man did it again
no barber shave up your head, or you can get hit with the lead
bro*bro whizz that, rev up the ped, do drills, i’m p*ssed he ain’t dead
this beef won’t end, put one in your head like a dread
no (?), no time to pretend, free up my bro’s in the pen
back out my skeng and shoot, from ‘016, we won, they lose
shotgun twinning, the barrel come two
i’ll shoot at a man from 410 with a 410 tryna turn man pack
rest up sa, bro*bro latz, back then called him l1 two shanks
and i know they hate that i’m chilly, thing in my lap, lets lurk around brikky
sticky, do the dip*dip dip up your triggy

(verse 2: st)
i ain’t gotta talk too tough, the work that the mandem’s done is nuts (shh)
he got splashed three different times but still talks all that crud (gem)
(?) look like crayons, rise that wap and tear through guts
if bro said he’s on that yute, i’m on him too, no ifs, no buts
tell him “load up six in the spin, i’ll put two in the bruck”
when we step, we step patterned, latex on and a stolen truck (gang)
pull up, on fact, doors buss, nothing but slugs if you f*ck with us
i could never give a b*tch my love, in guns we trust (skengs)
right now feds with the sweep, put the whole ends in cuffs
there’s either a snitch in the camp, or we just ran out of luck
free ttrap, kizz and rage, free itch, pulla and chucks
whole of the a*team’s locked up right now, every day it’s “free ’em all up”
(verse 3: bis)
big fat bell close range, why you talk ’bout you never got smoked? (baow)
me and a*team up in the ride, watch them man usain bolt, they know
ay driver, step and ghost, we sliding on these roads
grip and pose, still gun smoke, but no smoke, its on my clothes
we burning those, step with gang and burn my foes

- bis harlem spartans

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