Bandokay - Sorry Not Sorry Lyrics

(M1 on the beat)
Bando
Ay ay
Gang shit
Yo

I still need P like Diddy, if you ain't got P, you're ready
Go wet man down like a jersey, I'm praying he ends up in a telly
He got assault tryna come out and welly, it's tekky, now he got holes in his belly
Take off bare trap get shelly, swear I'm the one, I ain't talking Headie (One) (ay)
Slow down miss, you're too inner, don't worry about how many mans in my chinger
180 degrees that dinger, I'm sorry not sorry like Bryson Tiller (spin it)
I remember that day was a thriller, bro popped off, blood flow like a river
Four man, two shanks, one spinner, the driver's looking around for a figure
Duck, I ain't tryna box right now
No way you're akhz, send bro right 'round
I gave Key leg and it gave her clout
F*ck that drop, no dingers about
Fill it, fill it, bring that out
(Mooh, glee) Air that now
He ain't got heart but he got bare mouth
Fashion killer, she love my style (ay ay) (yo)

Them men ain't got heart like Kevin, he's leaving his brethren, like slow down my yute
Feds swear they ain't screaming Pyru, typhoon or a vesper tryna find you
We don't rap nonsense, I ain't like you
Fight who? Bro wet that, it went right through (Ching ching)
Free Slim Jim, he don't fight too, pretty old one, told brother she's like you
Pretty and bad, pretty and mad, sad, if you ain't got no guap (brass)
Moment of silence, I heard that the yute got done in the shop
Girl on my block and they love milly rock, flex with gang, send hits in New York
Stop, two got hit in their top, send enough for corn on every opp block
Just see opps so spin the car 'round, bloaw, that's how the spinner gon' sound
Two hands on the skeng like the Queen in the south, don't mean no bitch when i'm beaten it out
Cutie a thing, we gon' skeet it around, my ching chong sauced, I'm cleaning it down
Drip drip, that's great, gunshot one reason to help
Man grew up in the farm estate, best guard your face when I blast that gauge
In the car with a star, no wraith, gonna dig man's rast, make him Harlem shake
I don't know 'bout them, we don't par with the jakes
Man roll with the red, they're target face
Don't come into man, you ain't styling or brave
Could be the wrong path and the last you take
Creep, who's tryna let that speak?
Skeet (skee) she all on me
Christian Lou', rude skeet
She rude and dead, move, leave
Teddy with a bruckshot, big man jump off, we won't do womp ups, let that breathe
The gyal gets shy when I'm in that scene, she can't get cuffed if she from IG
Your boyfriend bad, but Loski badder
Mazza, big skee skee your spragga
Trapper, school days Hannah Montana
Dance, turn any boy Mick Jagger
Run up where? Send shot, get badder
Ain't ching shit for the block and manor
Bob the Builder, up that ladder
There's scrap pack, not Michael Dappah

Bro just got the drop on the opps, slap bells on the Glock and I'm beating this shotty
Copy, done it ASAP like Rocky, done it and 'caused mans stress in Totty (bare stress)
My lil' bro love splashing, a hobby, tell him cooled down, get rich like Roddy (Ricch)
Bodies bodies, we drop bodies, sorry to say we're not sorry