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lirik lagu grand national – proph

[intro]
[?]
south side

[verse 1]
okay, if i ain’t top five because i ain’t been in the charts
then i guess bro ain’t robbed guys because he stained ’em with a mask
guess jehovah don’t exist ‘cah we ain’t seen him in the flesh
i guess i never crossed that line ‘cah you ain’t stay behind in class
best respect it
when pr step inside the premise
riders got my name on bottles like the chemist (who?)
the f*ckin’ menace (okay)
i got guys that love the forty, but they suck at tennis
we pullin’ up the clutch to rev it, tryna duck a sentence
you know, boo, my city active like chern0byl
they keep the pocket rockets local, not bicoastal
l ain’t gangsta, school days i weren’t vocal
i favoured logic everybody else was rockin’ pro tools
i ain’t splash out on my shorty for maturity
five years later, now, my conscious be ignorin’ me
we in the function, pat downs ain’t sayin’ nothin’
for my dawg, the only one that ain’t on job is the security
if i was you, i wouldn’t like me either (i swear)
we playin’ finders, keeper
reach for no hands ‘cah it ain’t nice to meet you
imagine pr tryna’ buy a feature
man remind me of fiends that pay for high grade, you tryna bribe a teacher
[verse 2]
had a vision dem told me dem can’t see
now this sh*t is grand national, p*ssy, dem grand pree
they post subs, then see me and show love
and, baby, l’m supposedly the woke rapper that warn peace
n*gga, please
don’t push me when i’m in project mode
soft inside, p*ssy, dem boy, they’re oreos
this my brass and take off on a jet flow
i miss my ex, with all respect, that b*tch slept on the next hov’
baby, i’m the next wretch with less hair
that’s the next step, i’ll have dreads in six years
you play me and live where?
which breh? which dude warn tun up and diss who?
y’all motherf*ckers know what i’m into

[chorus]
what’s up?
real n*ggas (what’s up?)
trill n*ggas (what’s up?)
my ill n*ggas and f*ck how you feel n*ggas (what’s up?)
south side
cold n*ggas (what’s up?)
broke n*ggas (what’s up?)
my throwed n*ggas get twist off patrón n*ggas (what’s up?)
south side
my crew n*ggas (what’s up?)
new n*ggas (what’s up?)
fi tru n*ggasyou know wha’ mi n*ggas (what’s up?)
south side
yeah, yeah, yeah (what’s up?)
what, what, what (what’s up?)
yeah, yeah, yeah (what’s up?)
south side
[verse 3]
i know n*ggas got it out for me, that’s why they want my alchemy
skyline views, i light a spliff beside a balcony
savin’ women’s digits with the city that they live in
i ain’t even tryna flex, just the way i place my boundaries
i left school when old friends turnt bankers
and saw my uni n*ggas take the t inside the campus
i’m on retail and still online for cheap sales
so i guess that’s two ways that there’s a method to my madness
it’s immaculate
stayin’ alive required arrogance
i’m shy, but that just means i’m more alike to dodgin’ cameras (yeah)
i seen everythin’, your jaw drop at when readin’ the mail
now, i got my city right behind me, l’m leavin’ a trail
i had rely on all my pride, so i’m schemin’ as well
they ain’t seen a youngin’ comin’ like this since keenan and kel
the most shadey, labels high to put me on the shelf
if that advance is less than brodis re i’ll believe in myself (yeah)
think i’m stressin’ if i hear talkin’?
ask you sh*t then interrupt, i feel like piers morgan (what else?)
goat level, smoke settles, b*tch, i’m here for it (what else?)
sheep rappers skin these n*ggas out of sheer boredom (what else?)
i’m a smooth talker (yeah)
white tee wearer (yeah)
high st**z, stuntin’ hard with five week haircuts (yeah)
every single sitch i’m in, a n*gga wear the trousers
what a shame i came up in the tight jean era
[verse 3]
suh mi bad
goin’ international, baby, i bet a grand
wanna drop a classic then fly out yard with the gang
yard man, course i got a foul mouth, the pr’s profanity
i can’t trip off one thing, the f*ck i look like, amerie?
i got bigger fish to fry, that’s why i’m on a snappin’ streak
like my bro wasn’t slangin’, tryna give your g q’s
at the same d*mn time he covered up the magazine

[outro]
[?]

- proph

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