Regular Faces - FLOOR 3 Lyrics

(Man get fried in the night
Your boy got fried broad-day
[pissed]
Man sit back wid' a spliff
F*ck all them bruddas
F*ck all their kin)
Like 3 stripe crep when I step u can't cop them man got unlimited steeze
Like pickin' up haze from bro jus' pack that down in the OCB
Got bare grass stains on my skin like woulda' thought I scored then slid on my knees
Truesay' we done scored up here, call up G
Then your boy deceased
Like f*ck all the talkin' cap it
Man chasin' the paper a habit
You say that you top of the game, top of the field but you mid' like you Matic
Truesay' bro your track don't matter
Spit on the track g I run it Mo Salah
Like 14 pills hit me like Santana
Now it's jus' J's n' me like Jammer
(Man get fried in the night
Your boy got fried broad-day
[pissed]
Man sit back wid' a spliff
F*ck all them bruddas
F*ck all their kin)
Keep on selling your lies to the system
Panic hit the town and their losing their children
Burning gold just to find what is rooted in the tree
And now you're talking to the mirror too late
And your fighting just to shake off the pain, ah ah
And you're talking to the mirror too late
And your fighting just to shake off the pain, ah ah
Keep on selling your lies to the system
Panic hit the town and their losing their children
Burning gold just to find what is rooted in the tree
And now you're talking to the mirror too late
And your fighting just to shake off the pain, ah ah
And you're talking to the mirror too late
And your fighting just to shake off the pain, ah ah
(Woah)
Like chasin' the millis'
Step in the crep can't cop on the mains cau' the price too silly
Speed downtown in this bust' down Skoda, co-cola cau' the rev' come fizzy
Brudda went geek for the kilo
Said brudda went geek for the beno'
Like ride down town wid' my ski' like bro got a ski mask on he don't even ski
Bro I got drip on my jeans but the label say I can't wash in machine
No brudda gon' chat on my killy can't phase man
Like say you got heat but it's fake no spray tan
Lick down mic like I can't even care
Got too many bars and they all too rare
Too many flows and they, off the dome no Joe on the westside near to my zone
(Man get fried in the night
Your boy got fried broad-day
[pissed]
Man sit back wid' a spliff
F*ck all them bruddas
F*ck all their kin)
Keep on selling your lies to the system
Panic hit the town and their losing their children
Burning gold just to find what is rooted in the tree
And now you're talking to the mirror too late
And your fighting just to shake off the pain, ah ah
And you're talking to the mirror too late
And your fighting just to shake off the pain, ah ah
Keep on selling your lies to the system
Panic hit the town and their losing their children
Burning gold just to find what is rooted in the tree
And now you're talking to the mirror too late
And your fighting just to shake off the pain, ah ah
And you're talking to the mirror too late
And your fighting just to shake off the pain, ah ah