text: Different Sorts Lyrics
  M1onthebeat
  M1onthebeat
  I see them man dasheen 
  They always been talkers, see me in the flesh and its always been Walters
  It come like them boy there Ashley 
  I keep the skeng close like Roadman Shaq and Aznee 
  Come like Im on the lurk for a boy band, the way that I search for them boys on the backstreet 
  And what the fucks rap 
  When Im still live in the T
  Just last night I had to flush that pack 
  Now-now its somewhere in the sea 
  I rip my 23s, rudeboy I can tell you bout doors and hinges 
  CPS tryna get papers printed 
  And still I NFA on these bitches 
  Still en route, rags to riches 
  Still fly out the ride, stick in my hand looking like I come to play cricket
  Score these points still get round there, sawn-off joints 
  Hold it steady, got both elbows locked, Im poised 
  Splash mans face, I anoint you 
  Them 9 boys always been chatty, now I got old songs making up noise too
  Still fold these twenties and Im bagging up coins too 
  T-house settings, I still turn one into two 
  I still turn one into two 
  Put my Jordans on and then zombie walk 
  Your whole gang got one wap, my niggas step out with different sorts 
  Feds on my case for years, they want a man sitting in London courts 
  I wake up with the wildest thoughts, get money if I didnt then Ill do it by force 
  The corn in the mash got force, .44 kicks off like a pissed off horse 
  Wave wands like Harry and Snape, big stones and a wap it’s a serious sort 
  They ain’t copping no waps, they’re tramps, they need financial support 
  I put my life in my rhymes, now niggas wanna rap like me so I can’t endorse 
  Bang on them and just giggle, look and find a boy like a riddle
  S&D, your life’s in a pickle 
  Stick on the bike, riding man will take you out like a pickle
  Gun smoke, squeeze the trigger, same way man squeeze up her nipple 
  You ain’t putting work you’re a ginnal 
  Tooled up my ting tickled me, them fuck boys can’t get rid of me 
  Money coming, money coming in, them bad b’s wanna chill with me 
  Little hooker go and act your age, cause kway back you weren’t into me 
  Guns, money, guns, money, drugs, that’s the shit that I’m into b 
  Lurking round with a half a b, and that Cardi B
  Take risks that’s every day, cause every day the feds onto me 
  Counting racks and she hit me up, I said right now bitch don’t bother me 
  You see them opp boys yeah they so bruck, if they would yeah they’d work for me 
  Take-take risks and prosper, hand on heart
  Them man there Usain when I’m up front like Costa 
  I thank God that I still eat lobster 
  Serious mobster 
  Still deep in the streets
  Real life shit you can’t give me no Oscar 
  Put my Jordans on and then zombie walk 
  Your whole gang got one wap, my niggas step out with different sorts 
  Feds on my case for years, they want a man sitting in London courts 
  I wake up with the wildest thoughts, get money if I didnt then Ill do it by force 
  The corn in the mash got force, .44 kicks off like a pissed off horse 
  Wave wands like Harry and Snape, big stones and a wap it’s a serious sort 
  They ain’t copping no waps they’re tramps, they need financial support 
  I put my life in my rhymes, now niggas wanna rap like me so I can’t endorse
  Jump out gang, my drillers still crashing off waps
  .44 with big stones and a wap with a clip on the side, mad
  OSG days was mad, big Rambo tryna search and attack
  I was on snap in the trap, 2 packs up just me and my cat 
  I was on snap in the trap, 2 packs up just me and my cat 
  You was in the party brassed, tryna go home with a thot that’s frass
  And my broski just came home and he’s still putting things on stoves
  Look at his D Squared clothes
  My bro just stepped out cold, 67 pendant icy
  Look at the gold on bro
  Done skengs in trucks, now apparently everyone’s doing up skengs in trucks
  Done .44s in a 4 door, now apparently they all got 40 one
  We fuck up this music stuff, chilling on stage and stuff, whole career in my cup
  Feds wanna lock my bros, but the war’s going on and my gang still shell it at stuff 
  I’m tryna live my career, but the feds wanna stop and stare like stop right there 
  Pull up on the opps with the 4s out like pause right there
  My young niggas they don’t care, they’ll shave man straight in the face like he wants no beard 
  Smoking cookie and am, I don’t wanna smoke none of your weed man the smokes too weird
  Put my Jordans on and then zombie walk 
  Your whole gang got one wap, my niggas step out with different sorts 
  Feds on my case for years, they want a man sitting in London courts 
  I wake up with the wildest thoughts, get money if I didnt then Ill do it by force 
  The corn in the mash got force, .44 kicks off like a pissed off horse 
  Wave wands like Harry and Snape, big stones and a wap it’s a serious sort 
  They ain’t copping no waps they’re tramps, they need financial support 
  I put my life in my rhymes, now niggas wanna rap like me so I can’t endorse 
  M1onthebeat1Embed