OG Damyan & Not Stoned - SNEAKY BLINDERS Lyrics

Walk up in the club you know it's gang comin thru
Smell like a pound of runts smellin like some gorilla glue
Demeanour disrespectful - I'm like watch tryna do
I ain't Nelly I'm throwin hands if dude step on my shoes
Like I might catch a case if dude step - on - my Js
Back to the block gettin paid - I know a couple ways
On the road ridin dirty - brodie catchin plays
Smokin top shelf cookie servin purple haze
Choppa by the book bag cos it's filled with cash
After I meet up with buddy then I'm gone in a flash
Shawty said that I got it but she ain't even see the stash
Cops run up on me - then call dame dash
Pass me the switch and I won't - hesitate - to blast
Puff puff on the joint - but I ain't tryna pass
Keep stackin up money - while he run through it fast
Keep goin up cos if you ain't first you last
On the block from sun up to sun down
Ima put on for my city put on for my town
Draco with the drum - it got a hundred rounds
Ima pop out the cut with my four pound
Ima pop out the cut with my desert eagle
Lotta cash feel like I'm Benny - Siegel
Custy hit the work - said that shit lethal
Ima get to the money ima get it legal
Gang and nem in a sprinter - and they got them poles
I ain't nardo so I don't gotta ask *who want smoke
Ain't gotta go to the bank - I'm stackin bankrolls
Gotta choppa with a beam and a f*ckin scope
Like a gentleman - j knock and ima get the door
So many sticks it look like we tryna go to war
In the trap smokin runtz - brodie pourin fours
Walls ain't made of bricks but got em in the floor
12 check the attic - and I'm gone for good
Got a quarter stuffed the whole thing in a wood
Ran up a 50 just off postin up - in the hood
Standin on business cos that's how I always stood
Pop out dressed in all black like I'm ready to rob
He can't survive in the streets so he gettin a job
At the table discussing business like I'm in the mob
Stay out the streets while you ahead don't make yo mama sob
Feel like criss angel * mind freak how I get the pack gone
Ain't tryna get no racks then what typa timin you on
He ain't get his lick back - instead got on a song
Walk up on him and pop it then tell em so long
What I'm smokin exotic I be smokin on strong
I be facin backwoods while white boy smokin bong
Broski got so much beef he might just get a bomb
That boy be jackin my lingo - I call him talkin Tom
He be jackin my swag call that boy a thief
I be puttin in pain and I keep it g
Shawty saw what I had - she was in disbelief
I ain't never switch on bro ima take the plea