text: GANG Lyrics
  More than enough time to think of a plan
  Now they trap-trap-trappin and they think of the gang
  More than enough time to think of a plan
  Two months and I aint been home
  I still say my Hail Mary when I break each O
  Paps dont know if Im dead or alive
  I just bag this first Z out this nine
  Got nicked up in country, fell in love with this life
  I never knew that jail would be the next time I write
  My shorty when its on, doin better at life
  They didnt lie when they say youre out of sight, out of mind
  Told myself Ill make sure they cant forget mе next time
  I got lit, really had to takе those risks
  You ever sat on public transport casually with half a brick?
  You ever been up North? Nuttin to relate to
  On the wing, I had more than enough time to think of a plan
  Gr-grew together, tried to think were a gang
  Now they talkin drill and trap, and then they think of the gang
  More than enough time to think of a plan
  Now they trap-trap-trappin and then they think of the gang 
  Twelve years an I aint been home
  Aint bitter, though I know thats just the way that it goes
  Pops dont know if Im dead or alive
  Aint seen the geezer since I was nine
  When he calls and he asks me, I just tell him Im fine
  Hes old, he dont really need the stress on his mind
  On the phone I just lie an tell him Mummys alright
  These times, when my Mum was still on top, still inside
  Lord, be my protection an light
  Twelve years an I aint been home
  Imagine, twelve whole years an I still aint got used to the cold
  They dont care if Im dead or alive
  Maybe if I a couple then theyll give me the time
  I was just a lil shite, uh
  Stripped to my rides
  An it had me on the strip every night
  So I had to do this shit to survive
  A couple of my olders didnt have their papers either
  Only people alive that could give me advice
  On that live-and-die shit
  On that how to make it by without a single ride
  Knowing that if I get nicked, Im not going to jail
  Im not like these other guys, Im straight on a flight
  Twelve years an I aint been home
  Twelve whole years an Im sick to the bone
  Maybe I should dip on a flight
  They call it a gang, fam, I call it a tribe
  Hm
  More than enough time to think of a plan
  Grew together, tried to think were a gang
  Now they talkin drill and trap, and then they think of the gang
  Grew together, tried to think were a gang
  Now they trap-trap-trappin and they think of the gang
  More than enough time to think of a plan
  Now they talkin drill and trap, and then they think of the gang
  Think of the gang
  Trap-trap-trappin and they think of the gang
  More than enough time to think of a plan
  Now they trap-trap-trappin and they think of the gang
  More than enough time to think of a plan
  Now they trap-trap-trappin and they think of the gang
  Gr-grew together, tried to think were a gang
  Now they talkin drillin, trappin, and they think of the gang Embed